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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26385856">Relocation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jentaro/pseuds/jentaro'>jentaro</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>eskel gets pegged cinematic universe or EGPCU for short [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cunnilingus, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Modern AU, Pegging, Public Sex, Trans Jaskier | Dandelion, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, back at it again with title coming from a song but this time im a nerd for it, eskel drank fall for a stranger juice at the skelligan medieval history conference continental bfast, high key breeding kink in chapter 3, low key breeding kink in chapter 2, there's some very real angst here too sowwy, valdo marx eat shit fucking CHALLENGE</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:13:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>30,759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26385856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jentaro/pseuds/jentaro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“What do you <i>mean</i> you didn’t come prepared to the Skelligan medieval history conference to get laid, what the fuck?”</p>
<p>/</p>
<p>Jaskier hooks up with a stranger due to a flight cancellation and some extremely (un?)fortunate timing on booking a hotel room.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>eskel gets pegged cinematic universe or EGPCU for short [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018765</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>145</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jaskier or Geralt/others (with or w/out eachother), Trans Characters in The Witcher Universe</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>revving up those fryers one more time for another modern au disaster that is 100% <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletincookie">bulletincookie</a>'s fault (like i didn't ask for this prompt in the first place...). also once again barely edited :/</p>
<p>i couldn't consciously make people sit through three and a half separate smut scenes in one posting, so this has been split in half and u get the first one and a half here. which means i can post this for instant gratification and then work on the second half after <b>:^)</b></p>
<p>jaskier said trans rights like usual! also MIND THE FUCKING TAGS PLEASEEEE jaskier gets fisted because this is my fic and i make the horny rules, i don't want a single person acting surprised abt it</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The man in line in front of him looks <i>tired</i>, annoyed about the same situation that everyone here is annoyed at, and so devastatingly hot that Jaskier feels wet in a way that has nothing to do with the rain that has subtly drenched every single person in this hotel lobby. His flight’s been canceled because of a huge storm that manifested with the worst timing imaginable, rescheduled for around noon the following day. Currently, the line for hotel accommodations is <i>much</i> too long, especially because Jaskier needs an overpriced drink, like, <i>yesterday</i>. Maybe a reason to fall to his knees for the guy he’s standing behind.</p>
<p>The whole <i>reason</i> he had come out here was to meet with a colleague of his for a conference they were attending together and that Jaskier was supposed to co-host for someone else who had withdrawn. The history conference itself had been <i>fascinating</i>, and he’d been able to attend quite a few workshops on medieval musical instruments that he’d been meaning to do more research on anyway; and then Jaskier had been abandoned so cruelly. Either way, what he had thought might have been their usual quick roll in the hay had instead turned into Valdo Marx doing every single thing he could to turn Jaskier off over the course of a single evening, effectively sealing the deal that their casual fling is <i>over</i>.</p>
<p>What a <i>pity</i> to have wasted his own time and <i>never</i> again is his resolution, but the whole stress of an unsalvageable situation along with being positively <i>starved</i> for attention is really hitting hard. At the very least he’s hurting for polite conversation, so when one of the computers goes down, Jaskier contemplates his plan of attack on the handsome stranger in front of him since this <i>will</i> turn into an unpleasant ordeal otherwise.</p>
<p>The man is just a little taller than himself, dark hair swept back from the rain and wind; there is a little water droplet that hangs from a strand behind his ear, and it takes every ounce of self control to not reach up and touch it. Yeah, this man is unfairly hot, absolutely <i>indecent</i> with how he can see the outline of the undershirt beneath his light blue button up <i>with the sleeves rolled up</i>. He’s got a backpack next to his feet and a satchel bag slung over one mouth watering shoulder, but it’s the forlornly looking at the bar that gives him his opening.</p>
<p>Jaskier steps a little to the right of the line as if he is looking at the mounting frustration of families being put up for the night. There are a <i>lot</i> more bored kids than usual starting to fuss at this early evening hour. It’s just past eight, and Jaskier is now tired and hungry and <i>horny</i>, so he sighs and mutters just loud enough for, say, a handsome man to hear him, “Too bad I can’t hop out of line and get a drink…”</p>
<p>The man chuckles quietly, turning to Jaskier (and <i>god</i> he wants to lick that scar) so he can say in the <i>most</i> attractive voice he has ever had the pleasure of hearing, “Ain’t that the truth.”</p>
<p>Jaskier visibly sizes him up while he’s still half turned to him, raking his eyes up and down that <i>glorious</i> form. He’s <i>fucked</i>, he wants to be fucked, and if Jaskier could muster up some posterboard and magazine cutout lettering to create a vision board to help manifest getting this man in bed tonight, he would. He wonders if the spark the stranger has in his eye is of interest or utter bewilderment, the man certainly furrows his eyebrows as he turns more to him to presumably get a better look. It is with a certain pride for himself that Jaskier <i>knows</i> he is hot and he’s not afraid to tap into that right now.</p>
<p>“You also stuck here because of the cancelations?” It’s obvious, of course, everyone here is. </p>
<p>“Yeaaaah,” comes the rough disappointed admission. “Really would’ve been nice to sleep in my own bed tonight, can't exactly fight mother nature though.”</p>
<p>God, <i>gods</i>, his voice is deep and pleasant and Jaskier wants him tucked up against his neck growling out obscene things. He wants to push him down and ride his dick on the floor right here if he could get away with it. But, <i>conversation</i>, and maybe if he bites, Jaskier can still least convince him to let him suck his dick or something. <i>Anything</i>. “Same here, the hotel I was in the past few nights was so uncomfortable… That, and I really wanted to be home so I didn't have to cancel my Monday lectures. My students are going to forget all of the material I had them read last week since I canceled Friday classes for this conference.”</p>
<p>Jaskier’s prayers may in fact have been <i>so</i> easily answered, watching the flicker of attraction flare to life beneath the golden gaze of this magnificent man. His eyes politely rake down him, back up perhaps a little less politely before he asks, “The Skelligan medieval history conference?” </p>
<p>“One and the same!” Jaskier is much more <i>immediately</i> delighted, and of course now equal parts sad for not <i>once</i> seeing this beautiful, gorgeous man during the whole conference. “Did you also attend?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I was there for the weaponry workshops. They have some absolutely stunning, well preserved pieces in the museum that couldn't be moved on site—didn't get a chance to go see them this year though…” The line moves then, and the man takes his step forward, Jaskier doing the same and wheeling his luggage with him.</p>
<p>When they settle into their new places again, Jaskier holds his hand out and says, “I’m Jaskier.” Is it a thinly veiled wedding ring check? Perhaps.</p>
<p>“Eskel,” his new friend replies, shaking his hand with one that's calloused and rough in every way that Jaskier wants to feel all over his body. No ring, hopefully no home he has to worry about wrecking.</p>
<p>“Nice to meet you,” he starts, smiling at him and playing just a <i>little</i> coy even in a genuine attempt to chat. “Weaponry though, huh? I’ve never really gotten a chance to do any reading or research on weapons specifically. I’m more of a medieval music kind of guy; the instruments were <i>fascinating</i> for their simplicity.”</p>
<p>“I’ll take your word on that since I’ve never gotten a chance to read on that either.” Eskel at least admits to it, and he’s properly modest about his lack of knowledge for it.</p>
<p>“Hm, that’s fair. I feel like each subject in itself is sort of niche,” Jaskier says, shifting his weight onto his other foot and taking another look at the front of the line, seeing the guy at the counter looking like he’s about to yell at the poor front desk person. “While it is my area of expertise, I was here as a representative of the university I’m a professor at so I could gather some new material to keep my coursework fresh.” Always good to pepper in some self-congratulatory pomp to himself and his accomplishments.</p>
<p>“I wish I could say the same,” Eskel says with a quiet chuckle that feels like it goes right through Jaskier, but then he turns almost <i>bashful</i>. “I’m ah… My job is kind of out there, nowhere near as prestigious as being a professor.” </p>
<p>“Are you kidding? I spent a thousand years in higher education and I use my degrees to grade the worst papers imaginable. Do you know what hell is? It’s having a stack of a hundred essays that all plagiarize the Wikipedia entry for <i>bards</i>. I’m pretty sure I could quote it in my sleep. <i>Seriously</i>, if you looked it up, I could recite the first few lines word for word.” Jaskier isn’t even kidding about that one, it’s a fun party trick. </p>
<p>To his incredulous delight at being humored, Eskel pulls out his phone with a ‘hold on’ gesture, types, and then says, “Prove it.”</p>
<p>Putting on a more authoritative voice, Jaskier delivers, “<i>In Celtic cultures, a bard was a professional story teller, verse-maker, music composer, oral historian and genealogist, employed by a patron (such as a monarch or noble) to commemorate one or more of the patron's ancestors and to praise the patron's own activities</i>… I could <i>literally</i> keep going, Eskel.” He finishes on his new friend’s name with a chuckle, answered in kind by a deep, gorgeous laugh that makes Jaskier’s breath stumble.</p>
<p>“I don’t doubt it, definitely kinda impressive.”</p>
<p>The line moves again, and they both readjust accordingly. Jaskier stands more next to Eskel now to make it easier to look at him; he’s so devastatingly handsome that Jaskier’s knees are practically shaking. “But I wanna know what you do, were you here for work or just as a hobbyist?” It wouldn’t be strange, plenty of people attend these conventions as collectors.</p>
<p>“I’m actually a blacksmith and armorer, and I work the ren-faire circuit half the year, do commission work for the rest. I make a very believable medieval peasant, so it works out really well for me,” Eskel says, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck as if his occupation isn’t the coolest thing Jaskier has <i>ever</i> heard of.</p>
<p>“Seriously? That’s <i>amazing</i>, I <i>love</i> that,” Jaskier rushes out, putting a hand on Eskel’s decidedly strong feeling forearm, still clammy from the rain, but he hardly minds that. “That’s so much more interesting than what I’m doing.”</p>
<p>“It’s really not, I promise. It’s always too hot, and it’s dirty work.” Oh Eskel <i>is</i> trying to kill Jaskier, isn’t he? Saying something like that and making him imagine the man all sweaty and covered in forge grime, it’s easy to further daydream about getting fucked and covered in soot.</p>
<p>“I like a little hot and dirty action,” he says before his sense of shame can completely catch up with his mouth, but he still gives him a teasing little grin to see how it goes. Watching Eskel’s face, the thick swallow of searching for words is his confirmation that there is absolutely some sort of mutual interest brewing.</p>
<p>They share a look that only gets broken when the guy behind them clears his throat, prompting them to move again a few spots up. The line is moving a little bit faster now, the second computer having come back up, but Jaskier is… probably a little too desperate to let this dialogue go. “Hey, after we’re each checked in, you wanna grab a drink at the bar?” Grab a drink, talk some more about their suddenly very shared interests, maybe get railed in the bathroom. The ideal night.</p>
<p>Eskel considers it for a moment that feels way longer than it has any right to, but he nods and says, “Sure, yeah, I need a shower first, but I can be down after that. Maybe like nine?”</p>
<p>Jaskier checks his phone for the time, still only 8:17 which would give him <i>plenty</i> of time to amp himself up to manifest his dreams into reality. “I want to know more about your whole thing, and then I can talk your ear off about <i>my</i> whole thing. Even exchange, I want to hear the gritty hard opinions you have on blacksmithing.” They move again, and Jaskier adjusts his luggage again distractedly. </p>
<p>Eskel laughs again, a deep hum that Jaskier wants to rest his face against, feel the scratch of his stubble—”-n’t get me started on swords, I might not stop.”</p>
<p>“I’m down for some swordplay,” Jaskier says, giving Eskel an expression that he hopes reads as ‘throw me up against a wall and fuck me’ while the look in Eskel’s eyes gets intense in a way that punches the air out of Jaskier’s lungs.</p>
<p>The short spell is broken by an impatient voice, “We have two non-smoking rooms and a few more smoking.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Eskel says, turning his attention back to the desk, just as Jaskier is turning his own head to the front desk attendant.</p>
<p>In unison, “Non-smoking.”</p>
<p>They both pause, looking at each other again.</p>
<p>“Single bed or double?”</p>
<p>Eskel’s eyes darken just a shade, and Jaskier does not <i>hesitate</i> to turn back to the <i>very</i> done with their bullshit attendant to say, “Single.”</p>
<p>Eskel grabs the room keys after they finish checking-in, hopping on the elevator with a few other people. Their room is one closer to the top of the building, and what a <i>treat</i> it is that the last incredibly unwanted presence gets off on a floor just under halfway to theirs. The doors haven’t even completely closed before Jaskier is crowded up against the back of the elevator with Eskel’s hand pressed to his waist. “You really know what you’re asking for, Jaskier?”</p>
<p>“Say my name like that again and I’ll let you do whatever you want with me.” It’s the <i>truth</i>, god Jaskier really hopes Eskel isn’t an assassin sent by Valdo for ditching him—an assassin with an inside look into Jaskier’s deepest fantasies. There is a terrifying moment where Eskel’s palm slides down to squeeze him through his jeans, but there is no hesitation in how he grinds the heel of his palm against his cunt when he doesn’t find a cock there. Jaskier might already be in <i>love</i>.</p>
<p>At least, that’s what it feels like with his heart beating so hard he can feel his pulse in his limbs. Aching, <i>aching</i> to be touched and get his hole filled. He wants to be held down and fucked until he cries, until Jaskier is an overstimulated mess and full of cum; he feels like an unrefined animal right now, ready to pounce the moment they get to their room. </p>
<p>Jaskier makes the first move, shoving Eskel up against the door inside the room and nudging under the man's jaw with his nose, moaning when hands settle on his hips. “Saw you and wanted to shove you down and ride your cock in the lobby, you’re so fucking <i>hot</i>.” Jaskier is mumbling, kissing at Eskel’s throat, whining when he feels the outline of his dick when he presses up against him. Just as he thought, the stubble feels <i>incredible</i> against his skin, and he smells <i>so</i> good.</p>
<p>“Much as I’d love that, just realized I don't have any condoms with me,” Eskel says, and Jaskier can't even pretend to hold back his outraged groan before he pulls away from the paradise of the man’s throat.</p>
<p>“What do you <i>mean</i> you didn’t come prepared to the Skelligan medieval history conference to get laid, what the fuck?” Jaskier whines a frustrated, amused little noise as he bounces on his heels, holding Eskel at arm’s length. “No plan to have protection for when our destinies intertwined?” His mouth barely stays shut around his traitorous desire to demand Eskel fuck him raw and make a mess of him. No matter how true it is, he’s grateful for the thought put into safe sex with a stranger all the same.</p>
<p>“Can’t say I expected to get laid at the Skelligan medieval history conference, no,” Eskel says with a chuckle that sounds a touch bitter. </p>
<p>Coincidentally, Jaskier remembers two important facts. One, he has his strap with him if he dared to get bold enough, and two, he <i>does</i> have some condoms from his (thankfully) failed plans to fuck around with Valdo Marx, the horrible and forever permanently inadequate little weasel. “Hold on, I might have some…” The only problem being based on what he felt in that dick outline, Eskel might be heartbreakingly too big for them.</p>
<p>Grabbing the handle of his suitcase, he moves further into the room and puts it on the bed so he can open it. Eskel, for his part, goes over to the other side to set his shoulder bag and backpack down while Jaskier starts digging in his luggage in earnest. Clothing gets shifted aside, things he bought that are in bags get pulled out to make more room to move around in. Jaskier pauses when his fingers touch to his harness though, a shock of renewed lust going through him at the mere <i>concept</i> of taking Eskel apart and fucking him; one look at him is enough to get Jaskier thirsting all over again, trying to imagine what he would look like overwhelmed and overstimulated.</p>
<p>He wants that dick though; when his fingers brush against the packaging, he makes a quick ‘aha’ sound and holds it up between his index and middle fingers like he’s handing out a business card or something. Being casual in his delivery is impressive (to himself), but even he can’t hide his groan of disappointment when Eskel makes a face as he’s reading the packet.</p>
<p>“<i>No</i>.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Eskel says, dropping the packet to the bed. “They’re not gonna fit.”</p>
<p>The weather outside is continuing to get even <i>worse</i>, wind howling out the window, the lamp even flickering for that added touch of a bit too much drama. “So, not only are you apparently hung like a fucking stallion, but I have to live with that knowledge and not even get fucked by you? I’d crawl on my hands and knees like a dying man in the desert seeing an oasis to go to CVS and get you some condoms if I wouldn’t be swept away by this wind.”</p>
<p>Eskel chuckles a deep, divine couple of notes as he walks back around to the foot of the bed where Jaskier is. “Plenty of other ways to get acquainted, buttercup.” </p>
<p>One little, inconsequential nickname, and Jasker’s knees feel like they’re about to go weak. “How do you get to call me ‘buttercup’ like <i>that</i>, and I don’t even get to to ride you though?” Groaning, Jaskier tries to ignore how how his cunt is dripping enough that his boxers are sticking to his legs. It would be embarrassing if Eskel wasn’t giving him a look that says he wants to devour him.</p>
<p>“Saw you yesterday—in the medieval epic poems seminar, I mean. You kept arguing back and forth with the lecturer,” Eskel starts, and <i>oh</i> he’s pushing Jaskier’s sweater up enough to sneak his hands under the material to cup his tits. “”It was fucking hot.”</p>
<p>His moan is cut off by a laugh at the realization of the exact place and time this had occurred, because that had been <i>Valdo’s</i> lecture. Leaning his chest into Eskel’s hands, he cheekily asks, “Do you want to know why I was arguing like that?”</p>
<p>The charmed look on Eskel’s face is a delightful sight, and so is the darkened version when Jaskier pulls his shirt up and off completely. “Besides that it looked like you had fun?”</p>
<p>“We’re colleagues, sometimes we fuck around, well… We <i>used</i> to, I should say. He ditched me this weekend, did nothing but complain even before the panel, and I’ve had enough of his shit. The condoms were for him, and I didn’t even get to use my strap once,” Jaskier says, testing the waters, but he can’t tell how it lands. Why would anything be <i>easy</i>? “He’s a hack and the whole faculty knows it.”</p>
<p>Eskel laughs again, a gorgeous thing that Jaskier wants to memorize. </p>
<p>“He was gonna have me help him out on the panel when his co-presenter dipped, and then was pissed off when I said no because he stood me up and was a bitch to me. So I discredited every single thing he said out of spite while he fumbled his presentation,” Jaskier says with a quick little jubilant laugh on the end when he watches Eskel lean down, then feeling the press of lips to his neck that ends with teeth scraping his skin.</p>
<p>“Still hot,” Eskel mumbles between another bitten kiss.</p>
<p>“Kinda mad you saw me and didn't approach me,” Jaskier says with a sigh, tilting his neck to give Eskel more room. “Would have jumped you sooner.” His fingers start undoing the buttons on Eskel’s overshirt, tugging the fabric out of his pants so he can have any hope of seeing his chest sometime tonight. </p>
<p>He’s helped along, Eskel stepping back so he can take his shirt off, followed by the undershirt too. “You were gone afterward, didn’t get a chance to.” </p>
<p>“What a shame—” Jaskier says and cuts himself off as Eskel grabs his hips. “What would you have done?”</p>
<p>“Would’ve asked you for a drink before finding an excuse to eat you out.” Eskel says it so casually that Jaskier can’t even hide the breath he sucks in. “Still wanna.”</p>
<p>Jaskier is already pulling his jeans and boxers off in one motion, breathily asking, “Then what’s stopping you—<i>h-hey</i>!”</p>
<p>Nothing, now, clearly; his astute observation is based on Eskel grabbing him and <i>tossing</i> Jaskier onto the bed,  getting right between his legs. Jaskier’s legs were about four seconds from going completely weak and crumbling away from him anyway, so he sinks back into the quilt with a moan when Eskel’s hands push up and pin his thighs down against the mattress. The <i>sound</i> of it, of Eskel pushing his tongue into Jaskier’s cunt is obscene. It only barely soothes the deep aching need to be filled, but it’s enough to make Jaskier arch his back and try to move his hips. He <i>can’t</i> though, rendered immobile by Eskel’s hands on his thighs which is <i>another</i> unfairly hot thing to suffer through. </p>
<p>“Fuck—f-<i>fuck</i>, G-gods,” Jaskier stutters, babbling already as he watches the man go at him. Part of him wonders if he’s <i>ever</i> been this wet before, each slick sounding slide of Eskel’s tongue riling Jaskier up impossibly further, making his whole body shake. “Your mouth is gonna kill me,” he says with a shaky breath that ends in an especially bawdy sounding moan.</p>
<p>He can feel the smirk against his thigh when Eskel takes a breath. “Could say the same ‘bout yours, songbird, want my cock just as bad as you said.” Which Jaskier can’t deny, and why would he? Not when Eskel drags the flat of his tongue through his labia and up to his clit, <i>definitely</i> not when his lips close around Jaskier’s clit and his teeth gently scrape against it, his tongue soothing the nub. Eskel lets one of Jaskier’s thighs go so he can rub at him while fucking him with his tongue, stubble scraping against sensitive skin.</p>
<p>Jaskier might be in heaven.</p>
<p>He’s in heaven, and he’s <i>already</i> cumming on Eskel’s tongue, moaning out his surprise and clutching at his hair with both hands. And he keeps <i>going</i>, Jaskier making gibberish sounds that might be half-formed words in a forgotten language that he’s been studying. What of it? </p>
<p>The ache to be filled gets worse, Jaskier almost feels like he can’t breathe because of it. <i>Dramatic</i>, certainly, but Jaskier can hear himself begging, trying to grind against Eskel’s mouth as best as he can, ultimately groaning when Eskel pulls away. He almost asks what’s wrong, but Eskel is moving up to lay next to him, turning him onto his side so he can kiss Jaskier; the taste of himself being shared so eagerly is a <i>lot</i> on its own even without Eskel pushing his hand between his legs from the new position so he can slip two fingers into Jaskier’s cunt. </p>
<p>His leg automatically throws itself over Eskel’s hip so he can press himself closer, reaching between them to try and palm his cock, but Eskel hums his disapproval and breaks from their kiss to say, “No, you first.”</p>
<p>As if that’s not <i>the</i> hottest thing he’s ever heard a man say to him, like Eskel’s fingers aren’t the best thing he’s had inside him in <i>months</i> with how he’s had such a losing streak of lovers. “<i>A-and</i> a gentleman,” Jaskier says, sucking in a breath before his head falls back, cradled by the pillow he’s managed to dislodge from the headboard in the meantime. “Want more so <i>bad</i>, wanna feel it for days…”</p>
<p>Eskel heads for his throat again, peppering bites and kisses along the column of it while he adds another finger and changes up his pace and angle. Faster, harder, enough to make Jaskier’s head feel fuzzy while he rides Eskel’s fingers. “Fucking <i>soaked</i> for me, could slide my fist right in,” is mumbled into his chest, and Jaskier’s brain nearly shuts <i>down</i> just thinking of Eskel’s large hand stretching his cunt, moaning loud while he feels another tremor claw its way up his spine. </p>
<p>Jaskier finally wraps his arms around Eskel’s broad shoulders, tugging him closer while he tries to keep it together. It takes exactly four seconds for Jaskier to decide that if this is going to be the semi-anonymous hookup of his dreams, he might as well tell Eskel to put his money where his mouth is. “I’ve got lube in my suitcase.”</p>
<p>The look on Eskel’s face is <i>cute</i> when his pace stutters and he stops to pull back to look at Jaskier. There’s a moment of hesitation before a grin spreads out across his face. His tone is half incredulous, a bit <i>breathless</i>, even, “Yeah?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Jaskier says with a nod, flopping again onto his back while Eskel sits up, and he doesn’t even bother restraining his moan when Eskel sucks his own fingers clean. “Where have you been all fucking weekend? I feel cheated that you were hiding with the weapons, would’ve gotten on my knees for you in a <i>second</i>.”</p>
<p>Getting up on his elbows, he watches Eskel strip out of his pants finally, whistling lowly and boldly when he <i>finally</i> sees Eskel’s cock bobbing between his legs. Hard, thick, gorgeous, foreskin still drawn up half on the head. Jaskier’s mouth absolutely <i>waters</i>, but he stays silent to instead watch Eskel flip the lid on his suitcase where it’s resting on the edge of this bed. By the continued cute look on his face, he <i>must</i> have come across at least one of his woefully unused toys on his quest, but Eskel does find the lube and tosses it on the bed <i>only</i> after reading the label. “...Cum lube.”</p>
<p>Jaskier nods, unashamed, “I know, I know, but it's the best lube I’ve ever used. It’s super sticky and gets <i>everywhere</i> though, start with a little.”</p>
<p>Nodding, Eskel says, “Got it. You ever done this before?”</p>
<p>“No,” Jaskier answers truthfully, “Not with a real fist anyway. I <i>do</i> have a few decently sized Bad Dragons though… hence cum lube.” Also the truth. </p>
<p>“Alright,” Eskel starts as he climbs back on the bed and between Jaskier’s legs, leaning down to his pussy and giving it another long, luxurious lick that makes Jaskier hum a quiet moan in the back of his throat. When Eskel pulls himself away again to grab the lube, he continues, “Got a safeword?”</p>
<p>Thinking about that for a second, Jaskier realizes that he’s never had to use it, but he’s not going to back out either way. “Yeah, it’s ‘tangerine’. Do you think I’ll need it?”</p>
<p>“That’s up to <i>you</i>, but if you feel any pain or anything is too uncomfortable, don’t be afraid to use it, okay? Defeats the purpose if it doesn’t feel good for you Jaskier.” Just like that, Jaskier knows if this were more than a random hookup due to a decidedly fortunate airline and weather mishap, he could fall in love so easily. So ridiculously and stupidly easy with a man that is more gentle and lovely than he has any right being—what a magnanimous soul, Eskel is. The hot stuff of poetry incarnate. </p>
<p>The pop of the lube cap pulls his attention back out of the romantic gutter and slams it straight back into the regular gutter, moaning when Eskel tips the bottle so a steady ooze of it lands on his cunt. The feel of fingers spreading through the mess is <i>divine</i>, as is watching Eskel play around with the sticky consistency. His fingers come away from Jaskier with strings of lube attached and the quiet slippery sounding crackling noise that sounds off with it. </p>
<p>The slick slide of fingers back inside of him feels much more exquisitely filthy this time, three from the start which just isn't <i>enough</i>. The fourth adds a sense of shameless depravity that briefly makes his head empty when he feels the additional stretch. The lube makes a reappearance, Jaskier watching and feeling Eskel move his hand so the slick pools in his cupped palm and right down his fingers when he tilts them back into fingering him open. </p>
<p>“Doin’ okay, sugar?”</p>
<p>Jaskier unabashedly <i>melts</i>, nodding with a sharp moan while he tries to relax when he feels pressure. The present, pleasant, strange pressure of his stretched hole catching on Eskel’s knuckles that is <i>much</i> different from the fun monster dildos he's used before. The stretch is just gradual enough that Jaskier can keep up with it, but his head feels like it's filling with static all the same. “<i>Please</i>, please please, <i>more</i>, Eskel—” Babbling, breathless, pushing his hips down against his hand where he can feel that he's moved his thumb into a better position and <i>Gods</i> this is going to happen, it's not enough, Jaskier <i>needs</i> this, it's <i>not enough</i>—</p>
<p>There’s an internal <i>pop</i>, and Jaskier <i>wails</i>, clamping down very suddenly on the fist inside him when it all feels like too much too soon. Eskel moves back up the bed as considerately as he can with his fist in Jaskier’s cunt, hushing him and pulling him close so he can take a breather and get used to it. “Shhh, you’re alright, sugar. You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well…” </p>
<p>Jaskier clings to him, pushes his sweaty forehead against Eskel’s chest as he tries to relax. The burn of the stretch is unlike anything he's ever felt before, discomfort fading into a pleasure that sparks up his spine and leaves Jaskier gasping into the softest chest hair he's ever had the pleasure of snuggling into in his <i>life</i>. A perfect moment in time where Jaskier lets his mind empty, moaning raggedly when Eskel’s fist shifts inside. </p>
<p>“Can you push for me and then relax, Jaskier?”</p>
<p>Humming in a high pitch in lieu of words, it turns into a whine almost immediately when he tries to push and then relaxes his muscles. The jostle of Eskel’s hand sliding deeper nearly is too much, his whole body quaking as he bears down on him again, squeezing while he brokenly cries out. </p>
<p>All he can do is focus on Eskel’s voice, “So good for me, you feel <i>incredible</i>.” He sounds winded, and Jaskier can vaguely feel a smear of precum against his leg where Eskel’s cock hangs heavy and untouched. “You okay to keep going?”</p>
<p>“Mm,” is all Jaskier can manage for a moment.</p>
<p>“I need words, baby. Need a yes or a no.”</p>
<p>Jaskier has to take a deep breath, involuntarily squeezing around the girth of Eskel’s fist as he does it before he can force out, “Fuck, <i>yes</i>, fuckin’ <i>ruin</i> me.” </p>
<p>Pressed so close, he can feel the shudder crawling through Eskel, which makes Jaskier feel like he's about to go absolutely <i>insane</i> with need. The sound his pussy makes is more salacious than any other noise he's ever heard his own body make, a filthy squelch of lube and his own body fluids that keeps Eskel’s skin from dragging against his own uncomfortably when he moves inside him. Just shy of out, back in, and pushing and pressure and out and <i>Gods it’s big, rubbing against everything, feels so good</i>...</p>
<p>He doesn't even realize he’s speaking out loud until Eskel moans into his hair, stuttering in his slow pace. Jaskier gets his leg over Eskel’s hip again, rocking his hips down with a gasp that turns into an impatient whine, slowly bleeding all the air from his lungs. It's still not enough, filled to the brim while clenching and pushing and pulling him in deeper, sensitive and overwhelmed, hot all over and boiling inside.</p>
<p>“So fucking gorgeous, look at you,” said in a short-winded mumble in that deep voice that's going to haunt Jaskier’s dreams at this point. Eskel’s lips are a surprise on his own, and that's what makes his fingernails claw over perfect, strong shoulders. A <i>blacksmith’s</i> shoulders; what a lottery to win on hookups. Hot, attentive, strong, and definitely just as into him with <i>zero</i> hesitation. </p>
<p>His orgasm is building, holding off as long as he can and getting just the <i>right</i> amount of movement with his hips to keep stoking the slow burn of continuous pleasure. Eskel reaches between them with his other hand to <i>finally</i> touch his clit again, making Jaskier cry out into his mouth and break away to breathe raggedly. Even the pain feels good, squeezing too tight around Eskel’s hand and taking him in too deep, hovering on an edge and needing more, a little more, <i>please please please</i>—</p>
<p>“You gonna cum, sugar?” Eskel bites down on his earlobe and tugs, sucking and soothing while Jaskier lets go, finally, <i>finally</i>, the shock of it making his body wriggle out of control and making him sob out gibberish. The gush of fluid from his cunt makes him feel a little like he’s melting, distantly hearing Eskel trying to gentle him through it even as he keeps fucking him onto his fist and stroking his clit. Too much, <i>too much</i> until Eskel is pulling his fist free, giving his body another reason to shake, involuntarily curling up on himself from oversensitivity.</p>
<p>His lovely new friend tries to get up off the bed, but Jaskier keeps his hold on him and ends up laying loosely on top of the world’s most fantastic chest. Eskel’s clean hand rubs across his back, thinks maybe he's wiped the other one off on the unfortunately probably ruined quilt on top. Jaskier comes more back to himself after a few minutes of breathing and letting the aftershocks tease through his bones before he roughly asks, “Did I actually fucking squirt?” His thighs are an absolute wet mess, but Jaskier can't say anyone has gotten him off like that before.</p>
<p>“All over the place,” Eskel says, sounding amused somewhere above him. </p>
<p>“Fucking <i>gross</i>,” Jaskier says with a chuckle, shifting himself and groaning at the slickness painting his body.</p>
<p>“Might be the hottest thing I’ve ever felt before, definitely not gross.”</p>
<p>“Ugh, don't even <i>say</i> that, make me wanna keep you locked up in my office so I can ride you between classes,” Jaskier says, pressing a kiss to Eskel’s chest before making the <i>awful</i> move to get up, but not without noticing the look of awe on his face. As much as he would love to lounge around and bask, this kind of mess smeared all over his cunt and thighs and down between his cheeks needs to be washed off <i>immediately</i>. “I’m gonna shower, join me?” He asks while looking over his shoulder, on his knees on the bed at his suitcase, digging through for his toiletries.</p>
<p>Jaskier doesn't wait for an answer, instead pulling out his little travel bottle of soap and his shampoo bar, getting up on legs that are just a little too shaky to be graceful. He doesn't wait to see if he's being followed, instead stepping into the bathroom and turning on the shower immediately. Thinking ahead so neither of them slip to death, he finds the cloth sheet mat and puts it on the floor, grabbing a washcloth on the way into the actual shower.</p>
<p>The water is set maybe a little too hot, but Jaskier isn't paying the hotel’s water or heating bill so he does <i>not</i> care. The feeling of the weekend slides off him, deeply satiated and aching bones warming up so nicely. He’s already used his fingers to rinse his whole lower body off and clear away the mess, now halfway through washing his hair when Eskel joins him. He gets scalded by the water, clearly, making him reach over to turn the water temperature down enough to be more bearable.</p>
<p>“Sorry, I like boiling myself like a lobster.”</p>
<p>“I see that.” Eskel shakes his head with a silent little laugh that makes Jaskier want to kiss him, so he does just that, wrapping his arms around Eskel’s neck and leaning up the half an inch to his lips. Moaning quietly when arms wrap around his waist, Jaskier only leans back to finally rinse his hair, glad that Eskel keeps his hold to make the bend back that much more graceful while he pushes his hair out of his eyes to make sure all the suds are gone. </p>
<p>“Can I wash your hair?” Pressed so closely to Eskel, Jaskier can feel his cock against his leg, not quite as hard anymore but still full and heavy. It’s kind of getting to Jaskier, that there actually <i>is</i> a man out there so concerned with him taking his own pleasure first that he’ll completely neglect himself. What a good, perfect, hot guy…</p>
<p>When he gets a nod in return, Jaskier grins and turns them around in the tub so Eskel can wet his hair, and Jaskier grabs for his shampoo bar again. He has no problem moving Eskel again so he can rub the bar through his hair. It’s soft, maybe a little greasy, but soon enough the dark, woody fragrance from the shampoo fills the air between them when a proper lather is worked up. </p>
<p>“Smells good,” Eskel says quietly while leaning his head back for Jaskier to work.</p>
<p>“That’s the Sandalwood and Oudh oil, which, fun fact, is a rare compound only found in the agarwood tree after it’s been infected by <i>mould</i>.” Jaskier scratches at Eskel’s scalp gently, working the suds through his hair. “And it’s got some rose and jasmine oils, base of charcoal to help detoxify and soothe your scalp. I’m willing to bet you use whatever comes cheap in a bottle, and that’s a <i>crime</i>.”</p>
<p>“Then I’m sorry to disappoint, I do <i>exactly</i> that.” Eskel hums when Jaskier starts lightly scratching behind his ears and down to the fine hairs of his neck.</p>
<p>Jaskier makes a face, leaning so he can drape himself onto Eskel’s back with his head on the man’s shoulder. “You have such nice hair though, you really should take better care of it. That, and if you’re washing it every day, that’s gonna kill your hair so much faster…”</p>
<p>That makes Eskel laugh, leaning back onto Jaskier’s shoulder and turning his head so he can see him. “That’s a funny joke to tell a blacksmith who spends all day getting sweaty no matter what I do.”</p>
<p>“Listen, all I’m saying is that if you’re gonna be washing every single day and stripping your hair of its natural oils, then at least use something that’s going to keep your hair from getting gross. I can only do so much for your poor scalp in one night, darling.” With a kiss to Eskel’s rough cheek, Jasker shimmies around him and pushes him back toward the spray so he can wash the suds out. And while he does that, Jaskier grabs for the washcloth again and his lavender soap, squeezing some out onto the washcloth after wetting it. There is no pretext to this, Jaskier just brings the soapy washcloth to Eskel’s chest and starts washing. “I don’t even want to know what kind of awful four-in-one soap you use.”</p>
<p>“Okay, I’m not <i>that</i> bad. I have separate shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and shaving supplies. I’m not a <i>barbarian</i>.” He lifts his arms to make it easier for Jaskier to get those taken care of, turning when he’s directed so Jaskier can get his neck and back.</p>
<p>“Your grooming routine isn’t a completely unsalvageable nightmare then I <i>guess</i>, but you’re still on thin ice, dear,” Jaskier says, crowding Eskel up to the shower wall as he lifts his leg by the knee and washes his obscenely strong feeling thigh.</p>
<p>“And you're very pushy—you barely know me,” is his reply with no heat to it. He kind of looks fascinated with how he’s being handled, if Jaskier is reading him right. </p>
<p>“Kinda lost all sense of boundaries with you the moment you shoved your fist up my pussy,” speaking of, his cunt gives a pained throb, and he knows he's going to be sore very soon. It was absolutely worth it, of course. “I’m also a brash person, and I have zero shame.”</p>
<p>“Yeah I’ve noticed that,” Eskel says as he steadies himself on the shower wall with one hand on the soap ledge. “Not really complaining though, you’re probably the most interesting person I’ve met—”</p>
<p>“Just interesting?” Jaskier asks with a pout that turns into a laugh when Eskel rolls his eyes. “But! Don’t even say that to me like a semi-traveling blacksmith isn’t the coolest career choice I’ve ever heard of.” Putting his leg down after getting Eskel’s calf and foot, he switches to the other leg and repeats the same motions.</p>
<p>“I’ll at least admit it’s cool, and the ren faire stuff brings out all the metal-working enthusiasts, but it’s not as—”</p>
<p>“If you even try to say that being a professor is respectable or impressive, <i>please</i> don’t,” Jaskier interrupts him while dropping the washcloth and letting Eskel’s leg down, picking up his soap again to squirt some into his palm. “It’s <i>boring</i>.”</p>
<p>Eskel hums when Jaskier takes his cock into hand with no preamble, closed mouth and still managing to echo through Jaskier’s bones. “Okay, it’s kinda hot then.”</p>
<p>“I’ll take that.” Jaskier works his hand slow, tip to base and twisting on the way back up. Gently, lightly, wanting to draw this out and make it just as good for him. “What makes it hot?” A lot makes it hot, but he wants Eskel to say what he’s thinking.</p>
<p>“The whole authoritative figure thing, the hot professor asking the struggling student to their office after hours,” Eskel says, humming again when Jaskier presses himself closer. “Helping them out, or punishing them for a bad grade.”</p>
<p>“The classic punished by teacher, I see.” Jaskier’s fingers skim lower, palming at Eskel’s balls and soaping up whatever crevices he can find. “I think I know what you’d like more,” Jaskier’s voice goes lower, leaning more into Eskel and kissing his shoulder where the soap has been washed off.</p>
<p>Now, Eskel is breathing a bit more shallowly, looking away from Jaskier when he asks, “What’s that?”</p>
<p>“Don’t think I didn’t see how you reacted when I said I’d keep you locked up in my office, baby. Keep you right in my chair and keep your cock warm while I grade papers. Let you sweep all the stuff off my desk and fuck me when you’ve been teased enough…” <i>There</i> he is, sheepish looking and <i>perfect</i>. This time, he can feel just what it does to him, Eskel’s cock throbbing in his grip. “Or maybe you’d be such a good boy for me, sit so patiently, waiting for me to finish my work even though I’d be soaked from sitting on your cock. Gods, you’re so fucking <i>big</i>, you’re so gorgeous,” Jaskier says, mouthing at Eskel’s neck now while his other hand reaches around to palm at his ass with soapy fingers.</p>
<p>The shudder that goes through Eskel’s entire body is <i>thrilling</i>, especially with the cute little cut off moan of <i>fuck</i>.</p>
<p>Jaskier attaches himself to Eskel’s body, stepping into his space enough to take his thigh between his own. “Maybe you want me to fuck you instead.” He can’t help the thrust of his hips against Eskel’s, quietly moaning when Eskel’s breath hitches at the feel of Jaskier’s fingertips teasing against his hole. “You’d be so fucking cute on my cock, blissed out while I take you apart completely.”</p>
<p>“<i>Jaskier</i>-” Eskel’s arm wraps around his back abruptly, tugging him closer while Jaskier’s hips rut against him. Just enough to drive his dirty talk home.</p>
<p>“I bet you taste like heaven too, baby boy,” punctuated by pushing his fingers against his ass like he would with his tongue, “Bet you come in from the forge all sweaty and dirty and looking like a <i>god</i>. Bet you’d look even better laying in bed getting tongue fucked, letting me take care of you, ease all the tension out.”</p>
<p>Keening is a <i>good</i> noise from Eskel, the deep tone of his voice cracking on unsaid words. Jaskier speeds his hand up when his stomach unfortunately quietly grumbles. Some food sounds <i>fantastic</i> right about now—after he gets Eskel to cum. “H-heard that,” Eskel says with a stuttered laugh while he fucks Jaskier’s fist.</p>
<p>“In my defense, I can be horny <i>and</i> hungry at the same time. If you don’t think I’d eat while I’m getting fucked, then you don’t know me.” Smiling into Eskel’s neck, he moves up to catch him in a kiss, biting down on his lips and muttering, “Come for me, sweetheart. Show me how good you are for me.” Kissing him again, Eskel ends up gasping into Jaskier’s mouth when he orgasms with a euphonious quality to it that is <i>deeply</i> satisfying. Splendid, stunning, a beautiful look on his face with his eyes shut as he moans loud enough to reverberate around the bathroom. “How are you so magnificent?”</p>
<p>Jaskier steps back, admiring Eskel’s body before bending to pick the wash cloth back up so he can wash himself up quickly. Standing under the spray to let the water take care of the jizz, Jaskier doesn’t even get halfway with getting clean until Eskel takes the cloth from him, pulling Jaskier’s back to his chest so he can return the washing favor. “You’re one to talk ‘bout being gorgeous.” </p>
<p>“Am I now?”</p>
<p>“Hmm.”</p>
<p>He’ll accept the answer as is, it’s not a secret that he’s good looking, but from Eskel especially the compliment feels good. It feels even better to get spun around and kissed again, and to turn the water off when they’re both rinsed to dry each other off. If this weren’t the world’s wildest one night stand where he is sure that he’ll never see this man again, Jaskier might even be stupid enough to ask for his number.</p>
<p>While Jaskier is wiping at the fogged up mirror to get a look of himself, Eskel is back in the main part of the hotel room when he calls out, “Wanna go down and get a drink?”</p>
<p>“Read my mind, darling. Go get us a table at the restaurant?”</p>
<p>“On it.”</p>
<p>It feels intimate, almost, hearing the door click shut on a debilitatingly handsome man he’s just had the most indecent hour with of his life, and that is <i>saying</i> something. Now alone, Jaskier takes a few minutes to get himself together and text Priscilla with the most teasing snippet of his night. Properly moisturized after a hot shower, he chugs some water and then gets dressed and dabs on some of his earthy perfume. Perfect for a drink down at the hotel restaurant bar.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p></p><div class="center">
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    <p>Perfume.</p><p>“Is it too much?”</p><p>Jaskier is talking to the air, now alone in the hotel room and trying to decide how to handle himself from here. He had been <i>miles</i> away from his best while standing tiredly in the lobby along with a bunch of angry, similarly tired and sweaty and rain-wet and irritated people. Not that Jaskier is heading down in his best tight jeans that make his ass pop—only his best leggings that make him look <i>juicy</i>. If only he’d had the foresight to know he would be going for a drink with a man he wants to rail—absolutely fuck until he is crying, fuck him deep and tell him how gorgeous he is while he does it. He’s sure the jeans would work much better for that, but the leggings will have to do.</p><p>“No, it’s not too much,” Jaskier says, grabbing his roll-on bottle and unscrewing the cap. The scent is unconventional, but Jaskier wants to leave an <i>impression</i>, doesn’t matter if it’s a good or bad one as long as it is left.</p><p>He <i>always</i> has his favorite perfume on him when he travels, that’s as a rule. It has a certain strange, earthy aroma that is hard to translate into a single feeling or scent, but when it works, it <i>works</i>. It smells like November in the temperate, deciduous forest; like misty rain and waterlogged mushrooms and decomposing leaves, of the rot of a tree having fallen to the forest floor and left alone for decades, of a smoky tea that has been cured on sweet pine. It’s sexy and adds that certain oomph for most people at a baseline and has made men melt at its seductive best. </p><p>“God, I want to fuck him,” mumbled at himself as he puts the beeswax balm on his wrists first, and then on his neck, between his tits; it’s a fixative balm that makes sure the perfume’s oil base absorbs and sits longer and more potently. Something is telling Jaskier that Eskel, a guy who works part-time as a traveling medieval faire in-character blacksmith won’t mind a woodsy scent. He rolls a little bit of the perfume on the collar of Eskel’s shirt as an afterthought, give the man something to remember hopefully before it's thrown in the wash.</p><p>“Overkill?”</p><p>It might be, but no matter how the night goes, Jaskier is aiming for the stars. So no, it is not overkill to then put on Eskel’s previously discarded and much larger button up shirt on, leaving the top three buttons undone, gathering the excess material at his waist to tie it off in a knot at his side. The sleeves get rolled a little higher to his elbows, and after a look in the mirror, deigns himself finally complete.</p><p>Overkill is an application of deep plum lipstick.</p><p>Grabbing the key left for him, his wallet, and his phone, Jaskier heads down to find Eskel. The restaurant is open to the rest of the lobby, but walled and obscured for privacy, and at a few steps above, the bar stretches out. There are… a lot of people there, obviously, most of the victims of flight cancellation bookings having come down after check-in most likely, but it's easy to find Eskel where he's sat toward the end just before the bar starts to curve. Coming up behind him, Jaskier rests his elbows on Eskel’s shoulders, clasping his hands just beneath the man’s chin. He can feel the momentary stiffening of Eskel’s back, can almost hear the quiet stutter of breath over the buzz of background noise. </p><p>“No open tables?”</p><p>There is a beat of silence that Jaskier drinks in before Eskel looks toward the table area and says, “Not yet, should beeeee sometime soon? Unless you wanna order here, that was an option too.”</p><p>Jaskier sighs and deflates gratefully against Eskel just a smidge. Just enough, totally and <i>completely</i> unintentionally pushing his tits against Eskel’s gorgeous back. And it is also <i>irrefutably</i> unforeseen that Jaskier’s wrists came close to his nose on the way back up so he can take a seat at Eskel’s side. “Oh thank fuck, I’m so fucking hungry, can we just order here instead? There's way too many kids and pissed off parents over there, too noisy.” He sits at Eskel’s left leaving two free seats at Jaskier’s left, which no person should dare to be rude enough to sit in at the end of the counter.</p><p>“Yeah, that's good,” Eskel says distractedly, looking at him more now. “That my shirt?”</p><p>“It was the first one I could find,” Jaskier says looking down at the garment and picking at one of the buttons. “Unless you want me to go change? I can.”</p><p>“No uh, it’s fine,” Eskel starts, and cuts himself off when the bartender comes over to them.</p><p>“Hey, can we get a menu? We’re gonna order here. Also, I’ll take a Planter’s Punch but with whatever weird open rum you have back there that you want to get rid of and passionfruit juice if you've got it.” With that settled, Jaskier scooches his high-top chair a little so he can better see down the bar, and if he <i>happens</i> to be turned more toward Eskel’s incredible self, then that cannot be helped. As soon as he gets his drink and the menu, Jaskier pops it open between them. “Sorry in advance, but I can and will eat a fucking horse. I had brunch with one of my colleagues at like eleven today, and nothing since.”</p><p>Eskel chuckles next to him, flipping the plastic page of the tacky ring-binder menu. “Brunch is objectively the best type of meal, but I never really get a chance to enjoy it, too busy.”</p><p>“What? That’s <i>tragic</i>,” Jaskier says, and he means it, “If I’d found you earlier, I would have dragged you along. There’s the one little place just a few streets from the convention center that has this brussels sprouts and cauliflower hash that makes me feel feral, and I <i>cannot</i> recreate it at home no matter how much I’ve tried. But the old stubborn Skelligan grandmother who runs the shop refuses to give up her secrets to me.”</p><p>“Did you expect anything else? I’ve spent <i>years</i> tryin’ to pester a friend of my brother’s out here who <i>literally</i> owes him his life,” Eskel says, tapping on the counter for emphasis, “And he <i>still</i> won’t give up his chainmail secrets. He’s gonna end up taking them to his ornery grave.”</p><p>“They’re <i>all</i> like that, yeah,” Jaskier says with his own laugh, leaning more on the countertop. “Now, I believe I asked you about your gritty blacksmithing opinions earlier. I still want to hear them. Is there drama in the blacksmithing community?”</p><p>“Only if you look for it, most of the time everyone is really supportive, even for the newcomers…” He takes a sip of his drink, seeming to weigh on the ‘but’ that Jaskier wants to hear.</p><p>“Reminding you that I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know, still offering wild academia stories up in exchange.”</p><p>Putting his glass down, the ice inside rattles enough to be dramatic, and Jaskier is eight shades of enchanted when Eskel turns his chair a little to make it easier to speak to him. “If I never saw one more twenty something tech guy who bought a tiny anvil for twenty bucks from a junkyard post a picture of his first knife before abandoning his new hobby when he's not told it's perfect, it would be <i>too soon</i>.”</p><p>Clapping his hands together, Jaskier doesn’t even attempt to keep himself from acting like a gossip. “<i>Oh</i> I wouldn't have ever even considered that, but you know? That makes sense.”</p><p>“The community <i>is</i> great, but it's to the point where groups I’m in online have been overrun lately with hobbyists who don't get the instant gratification of people telling them their inconsistent steak knife with a busted handle is great. Nobody is a dick about it, but some of these guys don't accept regular criticism or even straight up <i>nice</i> attempts to give advice well and it's embarrassing. And I <i>get it</i>, almost nobody is going to drop their lives to get better at smithing, and I’m not here to gatekeep a fun time for someone who just does want to make some shitty knives. I’m not discouraging anyone, have at it, but your pile of 800 rusty door hinges that you scored at the dump really <i>isn't going to make anything that’s worth it</i> and I don't wanna hear about it.” It all comes out at once from a deep place of annoyance by the sound of it, and Jaskier could not be more enamored if he <i>tried</i>. “Sorry, I—”</p><p>“<i>No</i>, I love this, I live for this kind of thing,” Jaskier says, knocking his knee into Eskel’s while he leans forward onto the bar with his chin resting on his palm. “Do people really do that? Just show up on reddit with rusty door hinges and make terrible steak knives out of them?”</p><p>“I can forgive a beginner’s blade, but the <i>woodworking</i>,” Eskel says with a light cringe, picking up his phone from the counter, “Hold on, my brother-in-law sent me a picture of a handmade knife he saw in the wild at a farm auction, most gorgeous thing I’ve seen in a minute.”</p><p>If it were possible with these <i>extraordinarily</i> shitty airport hotel bar chairs, Jaskier would deposit himself in Eskel’s lap. He would bite at his jaw and tell him to keep talking <i>forever</i> with his deep, perfect voice, if only he could get away with it. When he’s got the picture up he’s looking for, Jaskier leans in closer to get a look at the knife. He doesn’t give a <i>fuck</i> about this knife, barely knows what he’s looking at as it is, but Jaskier still puts his hand over Eskel’s and zooms in on the picture with his other hand. “Is it an antique? It looks old, but I guess… sturdy?”</p><p>Jaskier rubs his thumb over Eskel’s knuckle, making him stutter slightly, “Y-yeah.” Adorable. “Old man down the road from Aiden’s farm kicked the bucket without anyone to claim his estate—nobody was sad, he was a bigoted piece of shit.” Jaskier really, <i>truly</i> can not feel more hooked right now on this whole anecdote, on Eskel himself. “But anyway he was there for the horses and wanted to see what else would be sold for pennies, he picked up that knife for me. It was a little dull when I got it, but for a homemade hunting knife, it works like a charm. The handle on it is oak, sanded with a high grit and stained and sealed with care that you just don’t get in a factory…”</p><p>“I’m not going to pretend I understood all of that, but it’s clean work! Do you hunt a lot?” Jaskier takes a sip of his drink, finally letting Eskel go so the poor guy can take a breather. </p><p>“Not as much as I used to when I was living with my family, but once in a while I’ll go out and catch some game, usually in the late fall, just before winter. All ethical kills, none of that gun-nut shooting up a carcass crap. I use a crossbow, and before you ask, <i>yes</i> I make my own arrows,” Eskel says, sounding faux-smug about it.</p><p><i>That</i> makes Jaskier perk up more, because after all, they are both departing from a medieval history conference that he knows Eskel spent most of with the weaponry. “Ohhhh, that sounds <i>so</i> fucking cool—seriously. Is there a difference though between a gun and arrows when it comes to the meat? Or is it a personal choice kind of thing? I’ve barely seen a gun in my life, and the only kind of hunting I can claim to have done is like frog hunting in little ponds.”</p><p>“There’s a lot of different factors when choosing the weapon, but condensing it as much as possible, a lot of people care about the cost. For beginners, it’s kinda even on what either one will cost for the piece and ammo, but over time it costs less to use a bow since you can reuse arrows until they break. It’s easier to practice with arrows too since they are reusable and rely much more on being steady and patient.”</p><p>“That makes sense,” Jaskier says just as the bartender rolls back over to them; he puts his finger up as a gesture to wait a second before downing the rest of his drink, picking the fruit out and pushing the glass over in silent ask for a refill while Eskel does the same. They put in their food orders, and are left alone again to their conversation. “Okay, so does range matter?”</p><p>“Range <i>absolutely</i> matters,” a definitive answer, and Eskel takes a sip of his fresh drink. “Rifles are good for a couple hundred yards, but bows are about 50 at best, shotguns less. So you’ve gotta get much closer and be quieter about it with closer-range weapons. And I’ll be honest, sneaking up on a prey animal and tracking them is most of the fun for me, personally. But, it comes down to not wanting to pick a bullet out of the meat. That, and bullets tend to spread gore, and buckshot especially is a bitch to pick out.”</p><p>“I can imagine it’ll ruin a pelt too, right? You said you do it all ethical style, so I assume you use as much of the carcasses as possi—” </p><p>The lights flicker again, this time followed by a rumble of thunder that’s much too loud, followed further by a few surprised shouts, a crash of dishes in the distance followed <i>additionally</i> by colorful swearing. They’re both quiet for a moment before Eskel laughs first, Jaskier joining in after a moment, snickering while holding onto Eskel’s arm for balance. God, even just holding onto Eskel’s arm, he can feel the strength in him. Jaskier isn’t even ashamed to admit he’s barely keeping himself from drooling.</p><p>“I guess this storm wasn’t kidding,” Eskel says with a sigh, relaxing while Jaskier slips his arm through the hole Eskel’s makes where it’s leaning on the bartop. </p><p>“Yeah, I’m just hoping that if the power here does go out it’s when we’re back in the room. If I have to walk up twenty flights of stairs, I <i>really</i> won’t be happy. Especially if I get drunk first, then I <i>definitely</i> won’t make it.” Probably not a joke, though there's something to be said for his stubbornness tonight specifically. </p><p>“I wouldn't leave you behind.” Eskel sounds sincere about it too, leaning into where their arms are linked, nudging Jaskier with his elbow. “I used to climb flights of stairs with sacks of rice on my shoulders when I was on the wrestling team—” </p><p>“<i>God</i>, don't tell me that,” Jaskier cuts him off with a groan, “I already want you to toss me over your shoulder and bring me up to the room and fucking obliterate me at the bare minimum, you can't just <i>say</i> you also wrestled, what the <i>fuck</i> Eskel.”</p><p>The man has the audacity to <i>laugh</i> at him, a handsome chuckle that really does nothing to help Jaskier’s blatant attraction. More than blatant, absolutely <i>shameless</i>; his cunt <i>aches</i> from the aftermath of Eskel’s fist, from wanting to ride his cock like he was born to, from the sheer immensity of his desire to get Eskel under him and taken fully apart by his lips and tongue and fingers and his pretty hot pink and purple cock. It is <i>unfair</i> how badly he wants this man in every single way. </p><p>“I wrestled, <i>and</i> I played rugby—”</p><p>Jaskier makes a pained noise in the back of his throat, bouncing a little bit in his chair.</p><p>“—still do sometimes.” </p><p>“I’m gonna take you home with me and tie you down and sit on your face, don't fucking <i>test me</i>,” Jaskier says, only mildly disgusted with himself for being so audibly horny in the middle of public. Sort of. Really, they <i>are</i> alone at the end of the bar and a little closed off from the restaurant part because of the half wall.</p><p>The full body shiver he gets when Eskel leans in with his arm on the back of Jaskier’s chair and rumbles out, “I'd let you,” should carry <i>criminal charges</i>.</p><p>His breath hitches, and Jaskier has to press his thighs together, very suddenly <i>throbbing</i>. Everywhere, inside, outside, down to his bones. Maybe even in his blood, to the point where Jaskier digs his fingernails into his own arm hard enough he’s sure he’s going to leave marks. “Boy you can’t just say that to me,” said a little breathlessly, a little more infatuated. </p><p>“But <i>you</i> can say you wanna strap me down and make me eat you out like I wouldn’t let you suffocate me and thank you from beyond the grave, I see how it is.” That’s when Jaskier feels the hand slip down to his waist, fingers gently digging in, and he has to fight himself to not moan out loud. Teasing turning into something that sounds like genuine awe when he says, “You’re fucking incredible.”</p><p>“And you're so fucking handsome I can't <i>stand it</i>,” Jaskier says before he can stop himself, sitting up straighter, shuddering when Eskel's hand goes lower. The tips of his fingers press into the crease where hip meets thigh at the same time Eskel presses his face into his neck, and Jaskier <i>suffers</i>. </p><p>This is exactly what he wants, it's <i>perfect</i>, and so, <i>so</i> good. Eskel huffs a breath against his neck, pushing his hand down to grab at Jaskier’s thigh. “I’d let you do whatever you want to me.” His voice is gravelly and low in just the right way to push a shiver up Jaskier’s spine. It sounds like a promise, and <i>oh</i> if that isn't one Jaskier is going to cash in on immediately.</p><p>His own hand moves down from the countertop to grab Eskel by the wrist, nudging his fingers up until Jaskier is barely stopping himself from grinding against him. Eskel makes a soft noise through his nose while pressed right against his skin, under his ear, a gorgeous sound that sets Jaskier on <i>fire</i>. “You really know what you’re asking for, Eskel?” Parroting his question back to him from earlier in the evening, unprecedentedly <i>delighted</i> when he can feel the tremor that passes through him—</p><p>“Julian?”</p><p>It’s like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on Jaskier, going from 100 to 0 in record time. He has a precious moment, one singular second to close his eyes and <i>breathe</i> and bask in his last traces of being publicly horny before he puts on his best bitch voice and turns his head to face the intruder who has <i>dared</i> try to ruin his evening. “Valdo Marx I know you didn't just come over here and sit down next to me.”</p><p>“I've never seen you with this guy before, trying to make sure you weren't being bothered—” </p><p>“I <i>wasn't</i>, no,” Jaskier says with a hard edge, rolling his eyes as he picks up his phone, finally seeing the litany of missed texts and calls. “I’d ask if you know how to read a room, but…” Jaskier shakes his phone for emphasis, the screen lit in Valdo’s direction before tossing it back down on the counter.</p><p>Eskel chuckles into his neck, a distracting, beautiful, incredible sound that tragically does nothing to help right now. The further tragedy is that Eskel’s hand removes itself so he can drape his arm across the back of Jaskier’s chair again. “Friend of yours, babe?” As if Eskel isn't very much aware of who this is, but watching Valdo’s emotional journey is <i>excellent</i>.</p><p>“An unfortunate colleague,” Jaskier says, turning back to look at Eskel with a pout. At least he looks amused, and it looks <i>amazing</i> on him; Jaskier reaches up to brush a stray piece of hair away from his forehead, lightly scratching his nails down the side of his face while he says, “One who is surely leaving—oh.” The bartender finally comes back with their dinner, something Jaskier had <i>completely</i> forgotten about. He tosses a thanks to him while he takes their glasses for refills only after Jaskier makes the whole room pause so he can down the rest of his drink. </p><p>“I’m <i>not</i> just leaving you with a meathead <i>stranger</i> Julian—”</p><p>“What a rude, little man,” Eskel says, chuckling while Jaskier does his best to raze Valdo to the ground with his gaze alone. Valdo, who looks like he's stepped on a lego.</p><p>Jaskier takes a very generous gulp of his new drink, “Okay, you reject of a court jester, <i>listen</i>—”</p><p>“No <i>you</i> listen,” Valdo interrupts, and Jaksier narrows his eyes, which actually succeeds in his goal of making Valdo recoil. And yet he has the arrogance and balls to press on, “You bailed on me, and then you absolutely humiliated me in front of an entire room of people, and…”</p><p>Jaskier tunes him out, more concerned with how Eskel leans his chin on his shoulder, and he can only imagine the look on Eskel’s face based on how Valdo seems to just completely curdle. But he <i>still</i> insists on talking, and on listing Jaskier’s so-called offenses against him for the weekend until he cannot stand the mere sound of his voice any longer, so he cuts him off around the time Valdo starts mentioning the whole panel Jaskier-grilled-him-in thing for the fifth time. “Valdo.” Calm, amused—especially by Eskel humming on his shoulder.</p><p>“<i>What</i>?” Annoyed, pissed off, looking between the two of them like he’s about to fly into a rage.</p><p>Eskel curls his hand back around Jaskier’s middle, and it <i>really</i> is unfair when he feels the press of lips against his neck at this moment. “Besides the irrefutable fact that you actually were the one that almost ruined <i>my</i> weekend, do you wanna know a secret?”</p><p>“What could you possi—”</p><p>“For the love of the Gods and Melitele specifically I am <i>begging</i> you to shut the fuck up!” Jaskier can't help his breathless little laugh on the tail end; Eskel smirks into his neck while he’s leaned forward to put his other arm around Jaskier, and <i>fuck</i> if it doesn't do the trick. “I don't like you in <i>any</i> capacity,” Jaskier says, using his hands for emphasis, but <i>oh</i> he is going to be distracted if Eskel doesn't stop. “You make my pussy <i>so</i> fucking <i>dry</i> every single time you open your clown mouth that it’s a wonder it hasn't crumbled into dust before. And just because you had the balls to not <i>only</i> do everything in your limp-dicked power to try and do me this one last disservice tonight by coming over here and insulting me <i>and</i> my future wife,” Jaskier pauses, sighing when one of Eskel’s hands slips up to unbutton another button on his borrowed shirt so he can push his hand in the fabric and <i>very</i> possessively cup his bare chest. <i>Fuck</i>.</p><p>“You're hot when you're mad,” mumbled into his skin before another kiss is placed to his neck, followed by another deep inhale that makes Jaskier feel like he's being <i>scented</i>. </p><p>“<i>You</i>—”</p><p>“Did I fucking say you could talk? I’m not done. God, not only did you insult us both, but to have the sheer <i>audacity</i> to think you have <i>any</i> stake in who I fuck is like... a Classical Redanian comedy level of tragic.” Jaskier twines his fingers with the hand that's still curled around his waist, leaning back more against Eskel. “What did you think you were going to accomplish by harassing me at an airport hotel bar when I’m clearly and very specifically having a <i>great</i> time with a guy I’m gonna take upstairs and fuck good enough to make him forget that you dared to walk over here and call him a <i>meathead</i>. What the hell kind of insult is that, what are you, fucking twelve? Get the hell away from me.”</p><p>Valdo stares, and <i>stares</i>, and falters, opening his mouth for words that don't come out, so Eskel fills the silence with, “I think Jaskier made himself <i>very</i> clear, boy, you should leave now.” There is an edge of a threat to it that leaves no room for nonsense, and it leaves Jaskier <i>aching</i>. </p><p>“Fine,” Valdo huffs out and gets up from his chair. </p><p>Before Valdo is even completely gone, Jaskier turns around to finally give Eskel a kiss that might make anyone watching jealous. Surely Valdo himself, when he looks back and then stomps off like a disgruntled toddler. It’s quick though, and Jaskier pulls back with, “You’re an <i>animal</i>, I love it.”</p><p>“Downgraded from future wife to animal, not sure how I feel about it.” He’s smiling, though, which makes Jaskier want to toss Eskel over his shoulder if he wouldn't topple over—maybe being on his third drink without a shred of food in his stomach is perhaps a bad idea.</p><p>“Oh, don't you worry gorgeous, I’m gonna take care of you either way.” And that <i>is</i> his promise. “But regrettably, if I don't eat something, my stomach is gonna cave in on itself first.” The contents of his plate look as good as overpriced hotel restaurant food can get, which is a little mediocre, but it's definitely better than he can accomplish himself. Jaskier wastes no time in digging in, glad that Eskel has zero hang ups about tucking in to his plate too. And of course, he teases himself between eating and catching up on his notifications. “You know, I said I’d tell you about all my academic dirt, but mine <i>literally</i> walked up. It doesn’t get dirtier than the fact that I’ve ever been in the same room as that harlequin fool.”</p><p>“I mean, I’d still like to hear whatever other hot gossip you have, but I think I can safely agree with you. Though, now you’ve got me questioning your taste in men…” </p><p>Jaskier tosses Eskel a quick glare over the rim of his glass, putting it down while he laughs at him. “My taste in men is usually <i>great</i>, but you’re in another category altogether.”</p><p>“If the category is ‘weird blacksmiths who look like they fought a bear and won’ then yeah, I guess I am.”</p><p>“Do you hear me complaining? Absolutely <i>not</i>. And for the <i>record</i>, the category I’m putting you in is ‘guy I want to fuck so good he cries’, so do with that what you will,” Jaskier says with a dismissing wave of his hand.</p><p>They both pause, and Jaskier looks at Eskel with the most innocent, and yet still nefarious look that he can possibly muster. He’s not sure if it works, annoyingly enough, because Eskel rolls his eyes and says, “<i>Please</i>, you aren’t gonna make me cry.”</p><p>That’s as much confirmation as he needs that Eskel is <i>actually</i> down, and it makes him forget all about their hiccup in flirting. It makes Jaskier wet just <i>thinking</i> about it, even if he’s a little too sore right now still to want to have much done about it. “Sweetheart, you’ve never had me fuck you. <i>I’m</i> the expert on me fucking people, I’m gonna make you cry, it’s my specialty.”</p><p>“You make it sound like I just challenged you.” </p><p>Eskel isn’t <i>wrong</i>, technically, it is always a challenge when someone doesn’t believe in his skills, but this… this is something else entirely. Jaskier is willing to bet that this handsome, perfect man doesn’t get anywhere close to the care and love he deserves. So even if he never sees him again, there is a large, loud part of himself that will fight tooth and nail to give him the best fuck possible. </p><p>“You're going to have a great time, and that is a <i>threat</i>.”</p><p>“Then consider me threatened,” Eskel says, looking up at him as he makes to stand. </p><p>Jaskier has to piss, and now is a better time than later when he’s got Eskel on his cock. “Good, now, I’ll be right back,” he says as he traces Eskel’s shoulders on his way toward where he’d seen the bathroom sign when he’d come downstairs. </p><p>It gives him some time to cool down and plan, at least. And he checks notifications again, sends an email out to his Monday classes that his lectures are all canceled, and handles everything else so he doesn’t have to worry about it. Typing is hard considering he’s hovering on being a little too tipsy, but he manages. Somehow. </p><p>When he comes back out and sits back down, Eskel’s finished his food, and their empty plates have been cleared. He’s nursing his drink, but perks back up once Jasker rejoins him. “Hey, it’s your birthday now.”</p><p>Jaskier is immediately confused as to what he’s talking about, but he’s <i>on board</i>. Whatever the scheme is, it’s now his birthday. Jaskier leans over in his chair and wraps his arms around Eskel’s shoulders, speaking quietly into his ear, “Damn right it is, what’d you get me?” </p><p>“You’ll see in four seconds,” Eskel murmurs just as the absolutely <i>obnoxious</i> clapping starts. </p><p>“You <i>son of a bitch</i>,” Jaskier laughs out, shaking Eskel’s shoulders as he turns to look at the commotion coming his way. Miserable, forced smiles on a handful of servers that trail behind the king dipshit carrying a plate with a slice of cake on it are framed by a bunch of people in the restaurant and even from all the way over at the rest of the open hotel lobby who are <i>watching</i>. As if the mere concept of a birthday is so foreign that it is an event to be shared with every single person on the planet.</p><p>Jaskier <i>loves</i> it. </p><p>“Oh my god they’re gonna put a party hat on my head, do you see that?” Eskel chuckles next to him and makes room for the plate of cake with a single lit candle on it to be placed down. He takes the party hat and has the gall to put it on his own head, so Jaskier lightly snaps the string under his chin in revenge, “That’s <i>mine</i>.”</p><p>“Then take it off me.”</p><p>Jaskier makes a ‘hmph’ noise before turning to his burning cake. “I’m gonna make a wish instead,” and with that, Jaskier blows it out and tucks his wish away for later. It’s cheating to save a wish until it's convenient, yeah, but if it’s Jaskier’s birthday, he <i>will</i> do what he wants. He’s sure the birthday gods will see his wish granted all the same.</p><p>The offbeat clapping ends finally, the staff turning tail nearly immediately, except of course the bartender who pours him a birthday Fireball shot so very generously. It’s a smooth burn on the way down, and in his tipsy state, it does nothing to help Jaskier’s desire to kiss his dinner companion. He is simply incapable of resisting, cannot even fathom stopping himself when he leans forward, taking Eskel’s face in his hands to plant a cinnamon whisky tasting, deep purple lipstick smear right on his lips. </p><p>He would <i>love</i> to shove his tongue down his throat right about now, but Jaskier is keeping himself as dialed back as he can. At least until they're back upstairs, and <i>god</i> it cannot be soon enough. As if reading his mind though, the second he pulls back, Eskel asks with his deep rumble of a voice, “Should we get a box for the cake?”</p><p>“We can eat it after I make you cry,” Jaskier says with another quick peck while his thumbs mock wipe under Eskel’s eyes, a spike of desire shooting through him when his boy leans into him. Finally letting him go, Jaskier grabs for his wallet and waves the bartender down with his card in hand. “Birthday bitch is gonna need another shot, a box for this cake, and to close out our tab.”</p><p>Jaskier <i>might</i> be crossing into drunk territory with the two identical shots (one so graciously on the house for the birthday bitch!) he’s been poured, but that remains to be seen since it hasn’t hit his bloodstream yet. Signing the check is hard with Eskel’s massive hand on the inside of his knee tracing up his thigh, though, but Jaskier manages. He also manages to get the cake in the box without it tumbling to the floor, so that’s a success Jaskier will take; he hands it off to Eskel while he stands up, grabbing his stuff and heading out of the bar and toward the lobby.</p><p>They’re mostly alone at the elevator bank, though there are some others waiting for an elevator to open up, the up button having already been pressed. <i>Oh</i> has a button been pressed, especially by Eskel who is standing next to him with an arm around his waist. Eskel, who is continuing to push his buttons while they wait by slipping his fingertips just inside the waistband of Jaskier’s leggings when he leans in close and mumbles, “Can’t wait for you to fuck me, pretty boy.”</p><p>The elevator doors open to the left of them, and as soon as the last person walks off, Jaskier grabs Eskel by the wrist and cuts in front of the people who are about to get on, dragging Eskel in and hitting the door close button, then the one for their floor before anyone else can get on while he shouts, “<i>Fuck off, get the next one</i>!” The doors aren’t even completely closed before he has Eskel shoved up against the back wall, kissing him hard. </p><p>It’s more teeth than anything at first when theirs click together before Jaskier gets a handle on himself, pushing his tongue into Eskel’s mouth while a knee goes between his legs. The man in question moans in surprise, but Jaskier feels <i>feral</i>—he feels like he's never been so horny in his entire life, aching inside from earlier and really, <i>really</i> wishing he could ride his dick raw. Jaskier wants it all, he wants to be fucked within an inch of his life, and he wants to ride Eskel’s cock, he wants to fuck him so good that nobody else will ever come close. </p><p>Gods, how is Jaskier supposed to walk away from this in the morning? From a gorgeous man who hits every preference of his without trying like Jaskier is an elevator button panel and Eskel is the twelve year old kid who thinks it's funny to stop at every floor. He wants to <i>devour</i> him, is that a normal thought to have about someone he's known for less than three hours? Is it normal to think about giving him his phone number, to want to ask where he lives, try and figure out how far apart they are from one another so that Jaskier might ever have this again—the electric feeling of desire that he's never felt before quite like this. A dramatic thing that the poet within wants to liken to a gaping chasm that he wants to tumble into, or like a raging fire he can feel down to his blood. Like if Jaskier were cracked open, his bones would be etched with line upon line of poesy that embellish the deeds of a man he is unacquainted with. Maybe in another life, maybe he has written epics about a dragon of a blacksmith, forging blades to slay monsters with; it almost feels like a forgotten memory. Like he has known Eskel.</p><p>Jaskier <i>wants</i> to know Eskel.</p><p>A romantic at heart is what Jaskier is, a horny, horrible romantic. He wants to memorize this moment, memorialized in his mind as his number one hookup, even if it is only that. It already feels like a bruise that someone curiously presses into to remember the feeling of what caused it, a sore spot in his heart that Jaskier knows he will feel as sharply as if it were a physical pain.</p><p>Eskel is melting against him, arms wrapped loosely around his waist as the floors tick by and Jaskier kisses the life from him. When the doors finally open on their stop, Jaskier steps away slowly and saunters out, walking backward for a moment and maintaining fiery eye contact with Eskel, turning around so he can find their room. </p><p>…if only Jaskier could remember which one it is.</p><p><i>Fuck</i>.</p><p>Stopping in the middle of the too-dim hallway, Jaskier stares at the card key in his hand and asks, “What’s the number again?”</p><p>“1807,” Eskel says, suddenly right behind him, hand on his waist and speaking right into his ear. Which is <i>unfair</i>—Jaskier leans back into his chest and takes a second to breathe and appreciate the closeness. With Eskel nipping at his neck, it’s hard to tear himself away and keep going forward until he finds their door, and then it takes at least three tries to get the key in the slot before they’re all but tumbling into the room. </p><p>Jaskier drops everything he’s holding—phone included—to the carpet in favor of pushing Eskel up against the door to force it closed before he’s back on him, kissing him hard and tugging at his shirt. Hasty doesn’t even begin to cover what he’s feeling right now, wanting to get the both of them completely naked as soon as humanly possible. It’s Eskel that takes him by the shoulders, guiding him off as he sheepishly says, “Whoa there darlin’, we’ve got all night and I’ve gotta piss first…”</p><p>“<i>Fine</i>,” he says, rolling his eyes dramatically before tossing Eskel a wink, taking the cake box and the party hat from him, shooing him off. The bathroom door closes, Jaskier puts the cake box on the desk, and he has to take a second to first go pick his stuff off the floor as silently as he can. The party hat goes on top of the lamp, and then he can finally focus on taking his clothes off, tempted as he is to keep the whole ensemble together since it makes him look hot. </p><p>The leggings and the shirt come off before he grabs his suitcase and looks through the contents. If only he’d been more prepared; all Jaskier has are his strap and a string of nipple clamps, but if he had known that he was going to get the lay of his life he would have brought more fun things along. He would have brought and <i>used</i> his entire new tub of Magic Crystals from Ł̙̠̹̜̰͈͜Û҉Š̨̪̤H҉̻.</p><p>That is <i>serious</i>.</p><p>For now, the panties stay on, and Jaskier pushes his suitcase to the corner of the bed, sweeping his woefully small checklist of items next to it to make sure it isn’t intimidatingly all strewn about. Even tipsy, Jaskier isn’t in any rush, <i>really</i>. Probably, at least not enough to be anything but respectful. And he can respect personal space even while every single thing about this man makes him horny—it almost feels like he’s living in a distant deja-vu, sitting on cheap sheets with a wet cunt wanting to be rawed. In this case, do the rawing; Jaskier <i>will</i> be making good on his threat as long as Eskel is still into it.</p><p>The door opens again, and Eskel comes out and stands in front of him, still blessedly fully clothed, all ready for him to unwrap. Jaskier also stands, but all he does is a half-circle around Eskel before grabbing for his lipstick where he’d left it out, moving over to the mirror to slowly reapply a thick coating of it. The snap of the cap back onto the tube almost echoes, but Jaskier tones himself down so it’s not as dramatic as his marginally intoxicated self is making it out to be. His hands go to Eskel’s shoulders, guiding him to sit onto the bed. “Don’t you make a pretty picture,” Jaskier says while looking him up and down, noting the handsome flush on his face. </p><p>“Lighting in here ain’t <i>that</i> good,” is enough to give him a brief flash of hurt on Eskel’s behalf, the feeling sitting hard in Jaskier’s heart for a moment. So, he sets about convincing his date that he means it.</p><p>Eskel’s lips are chapped where Jaskier brushes the pad of his thumb down, starting from the scarred edges on his bottom lip, down to the center and pushing into his mouth. Pressing down on Eskel’s tongue, the muscle flexes against Jaskier’s thumb which has <i>no</i> right being so hot. Jaskier pulls the digit out and drags the slickness of his saliva back up to the scarred corner of the lip. “You’re hot, you’re interesting, and fun, <i>and</i> you want me to fuck you? You’re really the whole package.” </p><p>His hands tug at the fabric of Eskel’s shirt, pulling it up and off his head in one smooth motion, tossing the garment to the floor. “You’re one to talk.”</p><p>“Oh really?” Jaskier takes the chance to sit on Eskel’s thigh, taking a deep breath and trying to chill out. “We can both be hot and interesting and fun at the same time, darling. You still want me to fuck you?”</p><p>Eskel inhales sharply, rushing out, “Yeah…”</p><p>“Good. Now, how do you feel about wearing nipple clamps?” Best to be blunt as Jaskier picks up the chain that the clamps are connected to. They're a gorgeous accessory, one that Jaskier loves using on himself; the two clamp ends are connected by a medium length of double chains that hang at two different lengths. Dangling from each of the two pieces of chains are adorable little red hearts that jangle around, and honestly they're <i>perfect</i>. Reaching behind himself to pick the chain up from the bed, Jaskier takes both ends in hand and wiggles them back and forth. </p><p>Eskel reaches out to take one of the hearts between his fingers, studying it for a moment before letting the chain drop again. “Thought I already told you I’d let you do whatever you want with me, sugar.”</p><p>“Consent is an ongoing process, and just because I’m the birthday bitch doesn't mean I get a free pass,” Jaskier says, letting one end dangle as he twists the knob on the clamp to keep it a little open, doing the same with the other side. It wouldn't do well to start off with it too tight so that it doesn't outright hurt when it's put on. “So is that a yes?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Eskel says, staring at him while Jaskier stands up and bends down to place a kiss over Eskel’s nipple, leaving a plum kiss mark around the nub before he attaches one end of the chain. His companion hisses quietly while Jaskier adjusts the knob, just barely biting back a sound when the other side is done up too (and with an identical kiss mark). </p><p>“That okay, baby?” A hum is Eskel’s answer to Jaskier, but he tsks and tugs on the chain gently. “You told me to use my words earlier, and I need to hear yours, Eskel.”</p><p>“It’s good, y-yeah.” Eskel is trembling, just a little, and it makes Jaskier wonder if he's as affected too. He wonders if the familiar feeling is itching at his spine the same way. </p><p>“I wanna hear how good I make you feel,” Jaskier says while tugging the chain again, dragging an abrupt, quiet moan from Eskel. “Like that, I wanna hear everything.” Kissing Eskel’s chest in lieu of waiting for an answer, Jaskier presses a dark mark into the valley between his mouthwatering pecs, just over the chains, and then in between the two, down to his <i>ridiculously</i> hot belly. It's obvious he has the world’s most incredible abs beneath a layer of chub that makes Jaskier want to sink his teeth into him and never let go. As it is, each smear of lipstick he leaves over the generous dusting of body hair is nearly too much to handle. </p><p>If only it wouldn't be weird to take a picture. Would it? </p><p>His hands move down to Eskel’s pants, making quick work of undoing the button while he finally kneels on the carpet. Impatiently, he grabs at his underwear and pants at the same time in an attempt to pull them down in tandem so it can all come off at once. Pushed to the side after struggling for just a second with his shoes and socks, Jaskier pushes his knees apart and <i>finally</i> gets an up close and personal look at Eskel’s cock. “You know? It’s not fair that I don't get to ride this,” he says while wrapping his hand gently around the base and holding it steady. “I’m so fucking wet for you,” and throbbing, and aching, and <i>yearning</i>, “that I’m like… pissed off about it. How dare you come into my life looking like you stepped out of an amalgamation of every wet dream I’ve ever had, it’s disrespectful.”</p><p>Jaskier shuts himself up by kissing Eskel’s perfect thigh, leaving lighter marks as the lipstick starts fading. A bold start at the knee turns even bolder as Jaskier moves further up, rubbing his thumb along the underside of Eskel’s cock, right over the thick vein that he can't help chasing his own touch with a too-light kiss. Eskel groans above him, leaning back on his forearm and other hand threading into Jaskier’s hair. He can't help being a tease, though, nosing at that perfect stomach and kissing the soft flesh with adoration that almost feels like veneration. Isn't it, though? </p><p>Breathing deeply against Eskel’s skin, he can still smell the lavender of his own soap over the musk of arousal. Little kisses turn into deep, appreciative smooches over coarse body hair and pliant skin—Jaskier tries not to lose himself so quickly, but he closes his eyes and moans, jerking Eskel off with loose strokes that shouldn't be enough to do much on its own. His free hand pushes up Eskel’s side, palm flat until his fingers touch to the chain and he hooks his pointer and middle over it, giving a sharp tug at the same time his fingers move back his slick foreskin so he can thumb at the head.</p><p>The ragged gasp he gets for his efforts is so hot that Jaskier doesn't even know what to do with himself besides making him do it again, mouthing now around the base of Eskel’s cock while the man shakes above him. The hand in his hair tightens, but Jaskier doesn't think much of it until he hears a choked off, loudly mortified sound from Eskel. The same second Jaskier pulls back to look up at him is when he realizes Eskel is <i>coming</i>.</p><p>Jaskier’s eyes flick back down to his cock, leaning forward with zero hesitation so he can wrap his lips around the head, sucking hard and not even trying to keep back his own moan of appreciation. Even the smallest taste of him is unfair—it's a shame that he doesn't get to enjoy it for long before Eskel is gasping his name out while pulling his hair and Jaskier <i>has</i> to let up. Not without gathering semen onto his tongue from where it had landed on Eskel’s stomach so he can surge up and give him a filthy kiss. </p><p>Only when Eskel struggles a bit is when Jaskier stops to check in, grabbing his face in his hands while sitting again on his leg. “You okay?”</p><p>“I’m <i>so</i> sor—”</p><p>Jaskier squishes Eskel’s cheeks together to cut him off, “If you're about to say sorry for the biggest and hottest ego boost I’ve gotten in the past decade, save yourself the breath. You're perfect.” Eskel does indeed shut up when he hears that, looking at Jaskier with tempestuous eyes that match the sky outside; Jaskier moves in to kiss him again, this time just a peck that doesn't go any further.</p><p>His hands fall to Eskel’s shoulders, one moving to play with the fine hair at the back of his neck, and again he can feel the restrained tremor crawl through him. He opens his mouth as if to say something else but Eskel shuts it again, seeming to think better of it. Which… Jaskier doesn't like, actually.</p><p>“Do you need to stop for now? I wanna make sure you're having fun, kinda defeats the purpose if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”</p><p>The pretty flush on Eskel’s face gets deeper, and Jaskier is delighted to hear, “No, u-uh, as long as you're not laughing at me for it, then I wanna continue.”</p><p>Jaskier kisses his jaw, a tender little smooch that he's pouring too much of himself into and he <i>knows</i> it. But he can't keep himself in check with Eskel being honest and making his heart sore. “I wouldn't ever laugh at you for something like that, and anyone who would is a piece of trash. Pleasure is pleasure, and the end result is supposed to be having fun, which I <i>am</i> having. And I would expect you to tell me to stop if you're not, okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Eskel says with a nod and an exhale, “Yeah I can do that.” Some of the tension leaves him, and Jaskier smiles into the kiss he gives him.</p><p>“Consider it payback for making me squirt <i>and</i> saying it's hot.” Jaskier tries <i>very</i> much in vain to muffle his laughter by pressing his face into Eskel’s neck, dropping another kiss over his racing pulse. “And now that we’ve both experienced unfathomably horny events tonight at each other’s hands, I’ve got plans for you.”</p><p>“Getting a little scared here if that wasn't even part of the plan,” Eskel tapers off with a chuckle, wrapping his arm around Jaskier’s waist from the back while his free hand smooths down the outside of his thigh. “I’d eat you out for days if I could.”</p><p>“I’d let you,” Jaskier says, feeling heartsick for saying it already, pressing his thighs together as his cunt valiantly throbs. “I wanna keep that mouth on a leash.”</p><p>“Just my mouth?” </p><p>“If I put a collar on you would you be a good boy for me?” Jaskier’s fingers are still sifting through the soft hair at the back of Eskel’s neck which is how he feels the almost imperceptible little shock of a tremor. “I think you'd look lovely with a pretty collar to match that pretty face of yours, fucking <i>stunning</i>, really. I’d put a leash on you and never let you out of my sight.”</p><p>He doesn't give Eskel the room to refute his <i>very true</i> claim, and really, what's a bit of empty promises and bedroom talk with a stranger? Nothing, even if the way Eskel’s breath stutters into the kiss he drops on his lips while laying him back on the comforter makes his heart rate skyrocket. There’s a couple of moments where Jaskier lays atop him completely with strong arms around his waist, getting lost in a kiss that tastes like whiskey and feels like a verboten utopia—forbidden and still perfect in every way.</p><p>So what if Jaskier is still just a hair away from drunk and pulling out words that <i>might</i> not necessarily fit together correctly from the recesses of his vocabulary? </p><p>“Scoot up,” he manages to say while grabbing the lube, and Jaskier is treated to Eskel grabbing his ass and readjusting higher on the bed. Eskel’s face ends up buried in his neck again, a deep, quavering breath that repeats itself with a quiet groan on the end. By now the head notes and the heart notes have probably faded from his perfume, leaving the more mellow base note to linger for a long while; the remnants of this one in particular leave a lasting, heady, almost smokey scent that makes bedmates melt. Eskel is <i>not</i> exempt.</p><p>But even Jaskier is tired of the teasing and prolonging, regretfully sitting up so he can see what he's doing and <i>not</i> get the lube everywhere. Popping the cap, he squeezes some out onto his fingers while readjusting himself so he’s kneeling between Eskel’s spread legs. “You know, I’ve got one of those huge dragon dicks with the cumtube in it,” Jaskier starts, teasing his fingers against Eskel’s hole, “Makes the strap I have with me look <i>weak</i>, but my <i>Gods</i> you would look gorgeous on the end of it. I’d love to make a proper mess of you, fuck you so deep and so good and then stuff you full of cum… Make you so wet for me so I can fuck you all night.”</p><p>One finger slides in so easily and with such an obscenely sticky sound to it that Jaskier cannot suppress his own appreciative moan even if he'd tried. “You’re so fucking handsome it's genuinely upsetting, I wanna take you home and keep youuuuu,” Jaskier says with a whine. Leaning down to Eskel’s chest, Jaskier pushes another finger in just as smoothly, moving deeper while he kisses in the middle of where both chains have come to rest on him. </p><p>He lays his cheek against metal and skin and stares up at Eskel while he starts up a leisurely pace with his fingers. There’s an absolutely darling flush on Eskel’s cheeks, but he’s still got his teeth clenched to keep himself quiet, so Jaskier grabs the chain between his teeth and tugs, making the links and charms clamor against themselves. Eskel groans the most attractive sound Jaskier’s ever heard, and he drops the chain from his teeth to kiss his chest. “So pretty for me, but I wanna hear you—I wanna know how it feels, please?”</p><p>Eskel throws one of his forearms over his face, turning his head away when he whines, “<i>Fuck, Jaskier</i>, gonna kill me.”</p><p>Grinning, Jaskier breathes a laugh against Eskel’s chest, nosing through the thick hair and humming and squeezing his legs together while he bounces himself to try and shake off the <i>empty</i> feeling. His pussy might be dripping enough to soak his nice panties, but Jaskier is a man of his word, so he starts fucking Eskel with his fingers. “That better, sweetheart?” The power going out is a sudden, quick event while the sky outside lights up and an <i>extremely</i> loud clap of thunder follows. Jaskier jumps and then lets himself fall to Eskel’s chest, laughing at how <i>ridiculous</i> the timing had been, but at least the generator kicks in a second later and the lamp at the side of the bed shines back on again.</p><p>When he opens his eyes again, Eskel is watching him and clearly flustered, but he doesn’t say anything immediately. And what a shame that is, so Jaskier pushes another finger in him, crooking three up as they move deep enough for Eskel to squirm and whimper a quiet noise that makes Jaskier <i>throb</i>. “Fucking beautiful, baby boy.” His own hips rut against Eskel’s thigh for a few beats when Eskel whines again, biting his lip. “Do you need help being loud? Wanna make sure everyone can hear how magnificently you howl for me.”</p><p>Eskel <i>trembles</i>, keening sharply when Jaskier jabs into his prostate while his other fingers push their way into Eskel’s mouth, depressing his tongue. <i>That</i> does it, Eskel rocking against him while moaning around his fingers. He’s loud, and <i>perfect</i>, and Jasker kisses down his chest again to keep himself busy; a shaky whine is his response, especially as Jaskier’s thumb traces Eskel’s scarred cheek. </p><p>Sighing when his lips find the pliant skin close to Eskel’s neglected cock, Jaskier plants messy kisses into soft hair. Adoration turns into worship when he drags his tongue down to wrap around the side of Eskel’s cock for a brief moment; Eskel sucks on his fingers then, pushing his tongue between his index and middle digits. “Such a good boy for me, bet you’d love being kept, waiting for me at home to sit on your face every night. But <i>fuck</i> Eskel,” Jaskier starts, pulling his fingers out of the man completely, he sits back on his legs and gets off the bed for a second so he can fish his harness out of his luggage, careful not to use the hand soiled with lube, “You could do whatever you want with me.”</p><p>Jaskier takes his panties off, tossing them to the floor, and then he’s stepping into the harness, thick pink and purple swirled dildo already slipped through the hole in it. When he gets back on the bed, Eskel is looking at him from under his forearm again, flushed down to his neck and breathing hard. Debauched, <i>perfect</i>. Grabbing the lube again, Jaskier stops before he pops the cap to check in, “Gorgeous, are you still okay to keep going?” </p><p>Eskel nods, and to Jaskier’s delight says, “Want you to fuck me.”</p><p>“Oh, sweetheart…” Jaskier pushes Eskel’s legs up so that his legs are bent, feet flat on the bed, taking a moment to look over him again. A person could get used to a man so handsome laying before him looking wrecked before Jaskier even sticks his hot pink and purple dick in—popping the cap, Jaskier pours some of the sticky lube onto his fingers, slicking himself up before tipping the bottle upside down over Eskel’s pelvis. A long, gooey line of the cum lube drips right next to where Eskel’s cock lays hard and flushed on his stomach, Jaskier dripping it down so it slowly leaks toward his hole. “I fucked you open, and then I pulled out to jerk myself off, made such a fucking mess of you…” Tossing the bottle to the side, Jaskier moves in to tease the head of the dildo against Eskel. “Make me so hard for you baby, you want more?”</p><p>The sound of the head dragging through the slickness of the lube is <i>obscene</i>, but Jaskier can see the exact moment that Eskel probably realizes he’s in over his head. And maybe Jaskier is too as a creature of love and affection who likes to spoil his bed partners—this feels different. It feels aggressively agrestal, wild and whole and raw at the same time, stemming from a deep and dangerous place. Words he could not possibly burden a stranger with seem to sit so easily on Jaskier’s tongue; that’s what all of the poetry Jaskier will write about the eyes of a stranger will be for.</p><p>“J-Just fuck me,” Eskel says panting as he looks out at Jaskier from under his arm. “Stop with the other stuff, just <i>fuck me</i>.”</p><p>“Impatient,” Jaskier mumbles, pushing in slow. “You’re so wet for me, feel fucking <i>perfect</i> on my cock.” His hips bottom out, Eskel pressed flush to the harness, but Jaskier can <i>feel</i> how he clenches around the toy, groaning quietly. The lube makes it almost <i>too</i> easy to move, starting up a deliberately relaxed pace while he grabs for Eskel’s arm to pull it off his eyes so Jaskier can see his face. “And stop what? Telling the truth?”</p><p>“Saying you mean shit you don’t,” Eskel says, moving his other forearm up anyway to cover his face. <i>Rude</i>. “You don’t gotta overcompensate f-for…” Eskel tapers off into a moan when Jaskier rolls his hips hard into him. </p><p>“For what? I can’t tell the most gorgeous man that’s ever stood in front of me in my <i>life</i>, let alone at an airport hotel, that I think he’s beautiful?” Jaskier picks up his pace though, fucking him like he clearly <i>needs</i>. Because Jaskier is overthinking this, and he’s getting too sappy in his own head and letting it out in a way that’s going to be self-destructive if he doesn’t quit it soon. “Too bad, I don’t lie about that kinda stuff.” </p><p>Eskel’s hips push down into his own, and Jaskier takes hold of his other wrist now, holding them both above his head as he leans down to kiss him—he <i>would</i> have if Eskel didn’t dodge him. “<i>Don’t</i>.”</p><p>So Jaskier doesn’t, kissing Eskel’s chin instead, right at the tips of his scars, down to his jaw. His light stubble is rough against Jaskier’s lips, and some part of him almost wants to tell Eskel that this feels like a recurrence; with Eskel’s wrists pinned and Jaskier’s lips busy, the rote repetition of thrusting into Eskel and smushing his pelvis hard against the harness to get some kind of friction. Anything to alleviate how much his cunt aches. Jaskier is breathing hard as it is, trying to keep a good pace and doing what he can to make Eskel feel good. The man moans again, a shaky thing that sounds almost clawed out when Jaskier changes his angle. “Sound so fucking lovely for me, look so good on my cock.” </p><p>Jaskier slides the flat of his tongue over one of the nipple clamps, closing his teeth around the clip and sucking around it, tugging the angrily flushed little nub along with it. Eskel keens out a pretty noise, but then he breaks his arms from Jaskier’s grip with a tug, turning his torso so he can grab onto a pillow and hide his face in it. That just won’t <i>do</i>, but he's not going to snatch it out of his hands; he'd rather see if he can coax Eskel into letting it go. Jaskier reaches between them to gather what he can of the smear of lube between them, grabbing hold of Eskel’s cock and closing his fist around the base. “Don’t hide,” he mumbles, kissing back up Eskel’s chest to his neck, nibbling at softer flesh. “Please don’t hide, Eskel, you’re so beautiful like this.” </p><p>Kissing up, Jaskier latches onto his earlobe with his teeth to tug just enough for him to hear Eskel groan again before letting out a loud, <i>embarrassed</i> cry of Jaskier’s name. His hips falter and stutter before he starts fucking Eskel harder, feeling his cock throb in his hand. “Nothing to be ashamed over, love, you sound like an angel, look <i>perfect</i>. Wanna hear you sweetheart, can you be loud for me?”</p><p>A full body shudder goes through Eskel while he all but <i>sobs</i> into the pillow, but Jaskier isn’t giving up. He slides his free hand between the gap where the pillow meets his chest, pushing his fingers over Eskel’s neck and up to cup his jaw. The tips of his fingers trace the scars before Jaskier forcibly turns Eskel’s face to him so he can kiss him; his thrusts have become less quick and more forceful, grinding against Eskel while jerking him off. Eskel’s high-pitched moan is muffled against Jaskier’s parted lips, opening his mouth to the prodding tip of his tongue. Jaskier sighs into the kiss, slowing down just a little so he can savor it. </p><p>And maybe he kisses Eskel like he might a lover, like Jaskier is serious about taking him home and keeping him. Lying is something he is <i>very</i> good at, but he has never been disingenuous before while in bed, and he refuses to be now. The thumb resting next to the bridge of Eskel’s nose rubs out toward his cheek continuously, but there’s a euphoric moment where the pad of his thumb comes away wet. Jaskier feels lightheaded as he pulls off the kiss to catch his breath. His cunt is pounding as much as his pulse is, high now on how salacious this whole encounter is. </p><p>“I’d keep you, but <i>fuck</i> do you know what you do to me Eskel?  I’d let you <i>breed</i> me, let you tie me up and fuck me full of cum.” It’s not a lie, and it’s not overcompensation for what Eskel is probably self conscious about, and well, Jaskier understands and appreciates that sentiment <i>immediately</i>. But it’s more than that, it’s everything about him, from his laugh to his body to the fun conversation they had earlier tonight… “Gods, I’d let you <i>own</i> me,” muttered right into Eskel’s ear and sealing it with a kiss to his jaw.</p><p>Sitting up straight and grabbing onto Eskel's lovely hip in one hand, he grabs onto the chain connecting the nipple clamps with the other to give it a wicked tug. A keening whine is his answer, and Jaskier takes in how <i>ruined</i> he looks—Eskel is half curled around a pillow, covered in dark kiss marks flushed all the way down to his chest and shaking, sweating, cock leaking onto his stomach, one white-knuckled hand clutching the sheets. Speechless beside the fucked out little moans he's making with the change in angle for how Jaskier starts rolling his hips precisely; he’s obviously close, so Jaskier stops teasing. “Gonna be a good boy and cum for me?”</p><p>Eskel makes a filthy, <i>desperate</i> little growling noise that shoots through Jaskier like lightning, making his hips stutter before fucking into him as hard as he can. Eskel’s whole body seizes up with his orgasm, crying out another deep moan when he clenches on the dildo, his spend spurting all over his chest. He looks <i>radiant</i>, otherworldly hot, and <i>oh</i> Jaskier throbs thoroughly in every conceivable way while he watches Eskel through the aftershocks for as long as his heart can stand it. Jaskier gentles him, rubs at his thighs and his hips while Eskel pulls himself together.</p><p>Pulling out after Eskel takes a long, deep breath that he sighs back out, Jaskier gets up off the bed so he can get some distance for a moment. “I’ll be back in a sec,” rushed out in a half-panic. He just needs to breathe, just long enough to reign himself in and not feel that little bit of horror he swallows down for giving a piece of himself over so freely like that. </p><p>In the bathroom, the harness comes off, and Jaskier washes everything in the sink before cleaning himself up. He lays his gear on top of a towel to dry, taking the time to prepare for what he’s sure is now going to be an awkward night. In consolation to himself, Jaskier reasons he has dumb romantic bitch disease, but this time it might <i>actually</i> be terminal. </p><p>Teeth brushed, face washed and moisturized, he goes to grab a washcloth for Eskel to soak some lukewarm water into and bring it out so he can clean up. There’s a knock on the door while Jaskier is standing at the sink though, dry cloth in hand; it’s a bit useless to be shy at this point, so he hums and says, “It’s open.” It’s closed, actually, but not locked, and Jaskier goes to correct himself over his wrong word choice because <i>wow</i> how dumb is he to use the wrong word, and—</p><p>Eskel slides in behind him and wraps an arm around his waist, kissing at the side of his neck and effectively shutting up Jaskier’s internal monologue. <i>Oh</i>. “I’m gonna shower again, you wanna split the cake when I’m done?”</p><p>And just like that, all of the tension melts out of Jaskier’s shoulders as he leans back and presses a self-indulgent kiss to Eskel’s jaw. “Duh. I’ll go clean up out there.” </p><p>As soon as he’s let go, Jaskier heads back into the room to put a T-shirt and some boxers on and clear off the bed. The chain and clamps are laying next to Jaskier’s luggage, which gives him the realization that he’s never going to be able to use them again without thinking of Eskel—it’s as much a consolation as it is a point of pain, so Jaskier tucks it away and cleans off the bed of the physical objects. The comforter <i>is</i> disgusting now, and he sets a reminder to himself for the morning to make sure to leave a tip on the desk on the way out for housekeeping. </p><p>Finding the remote for the television is easy though, and Jaskier turns it on after he closes the curtains and pulls the covers back so he can get into bed, propped up on the pillows. The shower runs for a while, but Eskel eventually returns in a towel, and Jaskier looks as respectfully as he can manage before focusing back on the TV. The only thing that isn’t the news or a movie that’s already halfway over is some awful home improvement show that Jaskier has been silently ripping apart for the past twenty minutes while he scrolls through things on his phone. “I forgot about the cake, can you grab it?”</p><p>Eskel puts on some boxers before he grabs the box from where it had been on the desk, coming to bed a moment later and sitting up against the pillows the same as Jaskier had. But as soon as he looks at the television, he scoffs, “These shows are a fucking nightmare.”</p><p>“I <i>know</i>, that’s what <i>I’m</i> saying. They have no sense of interior design at all. They just go around with huge hammers and smash walls apart, and then they rebuild shit in the blandest, most boring way possible. This started off as a charming victorian house…”</p><p>“<i>No</i>,” Eskel says, watching as the people taking apart the kitchen start ripping up the <i>lovely wooden detailing</i>. “No this is <i>painful</i>. Are they—god is that <i>pine</i>?”</p><p>Jaksier snickers as he pops the lid on the cake container. It’s surprisingly held up pretty well for how much they probably knocked it around on their way up to the room, but he <i>immediately</i> realizes their lack of utensils. “Do you care if we eat this with our hands?” Eskel hums his answer that Jaskier takes as ‘no’, so he takes a small piece and eats it; surprisingly, it’s not <i>that</i> bad, but this whole sitting in bed and eating it with a hot guy next to him vastly enhances the experience. Especially since his night would have been getting home from his flight late and going to bed alone, maybe sadly jerking off.</p><p>Eskel too grabs a pinch of cake and eats it, humming again. “I don’t expect them to bake this on-site or anything, but it’s a little soggy now… They didn’t thaw this out properly.”</p><p>“Oh?” Jaskier takes another piece and eats it, noticing now <i>exactly</i> what he’s talking about. “You’re right, the crumb is a little bit ...gummy? I’m still gonna eat it since it’s my birthday now, but no it’s a little bit unfortunate.”</p><p>“My sister in law’s best friend owns this new age bakery in my city, she makes the <i>best</i> cakes I’ve ever eaten in my life,” Eskel says, grabbing another piece to eat rather suddenly, as if stopping himself from saying something else.</p><p>Like Jaksier needs another reason to yearn, thinking of Eskel offering to get him a piece of his birthday. The sheer thought of it is illegal, so Jaskier’s attention shifts back to the TV just in time to see the bearded guy smash a sledgehammer into a beautiful antique cabinet shelving inlay built into a wall “on accident”. They <i>both</i> make outraged noises while the crew laughs. “These people need to be <i>stopped</i>.”</p><p>Gesturing toward the TV with a piece of cake in his fingers, Eskel says, “I helped my dad renovate the cabin he’s got on the wildlife preserve he’s in charge of, and he’s got a couple of these cabinets built into the walls that he keeps valuable things in. The amount of <i>time</i> that goes into those…” The camera pans onto a closeup of the damage, and Eskel makes another noise, “The detailing on that is fucking one of a <i>kind</i>, and they’re just fuckin’—they’re <i>completely</i> demolishing it now.”</p><p>Jaskier nudges Eskel in the side playfully, “That’s right, you do woodworking. What <i>don’t</i> you do?”</p><p>“I’m horrible at plumbing,” Eskel says, not missing a beat. They look at each other at the same time though, and they both do dumb little giggles while Jaskier leans more against him. </p><p>They finish the cake and stupid renovation show ends soon after, but they stay up and watch the next one. It’s some tacky interior decorating thing that Jaskier knows <i>much</i> more about the subject of than Eskel does, ripping apart furniture placings and ugly decor while he tells him about what he’d do with the space instead. When they finally kill the lights and the television goes off, after the phones have been plugged in and alarms set, they lay down to sleep. There’s a moment of awkwardness where Jaskier turns away so he can lay on his side, because if he faces Eskel? He might do something stupid and make him uncomfortable.</p><p>“Hey,” spoken out quietly into the darkness a few moments later makes Jaskier turn his head though, heart racing in his chest very suddenly.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Can I…” The rest of the question is lost with Eskel’s hand creeping gently onto his waist, waiting for an okay. </p><p>His words feel stuck in his throat, but Jaskier scoots back a little and grabs Eskel’s hand, pulling it until he gets the hint and wraps his arm around him. They settle against one another after that, quiet except for their breathing and the storm still raging strong outside. There is one particularly strong clap of thunder that startles Jaskier as he’s falling asleep, but a strong arm squeezes him around the middle and hushes him. </p><p>Eskel smells like his lavender soap.</p><p>Jaskier aches, again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>you can find me on tumblr @ <a href="https://jennyloggins.tumblr.com/">jennyloggins</a> and on twitter at <a href="https://twitter.com/slimejen">slimejen</a>. feel free to come talk or say hi or yell at me or whatever!!!!!!!!!!!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>last chapter i mentioned a perfume but completely forgot to link it so <a href="https://www.forstrangewomen.com/collections/perfume-oils/products/november-in-the-temperate-deciduous-forest-natural-perfume-oil-with-black-tea-bergamot-mushrooms-forest-floor-wet-soil-dried-leaves">here</a> it is! i have this irl and it makes me smell like a damp forest floor, i love it so fucking much and highly rec it.</p><p>anyway!!!! here’s the last chapter. i Do have a sequel planned but i cannot guarantee any sort of posting date for that. and i have a sequel to the sequel planned i guess :) but i’m not saying anything about Either. that’s a lie, i’ve posted a few things on twitter and on discord……</p><p>anyway!!! please enjoy the rest of this abomination of a fic that literally only started because cookie said “i wanna see eskel get pegged” and lord help me it happened. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE mind the new tags on this, this chapter is. a lot. also it's from eskel's pov :^)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There is a very sudden, quiet crash out in the hallway that wakes Eskel out of sleep, followed by a string of hushed cursing that at least is a <i>little</i> funny. He can just about hear presumably the wife telling the husband to shut up, but the whole event leaves him wide awake. Awake, and nestled close to Jaskier, the complete whirlwind of a person that he still has <i>no</i> idea what to think about. More that, he has no idea how to reconcile that he’d had the best, most meaningful feeling sex of his life with someone he doesn't know. </p><p>Laying in bed now, the curtains are blocking most of the light, so it's hard to tell what time it actually is without looking at a clock; it seems early though, enough that he shouldn't have to worry about the alarms that have been set. Not that Eskel could check if he wanted to, not with Jaskier using his arm as a pillow, laying back against him looking every bit an angel. Part of Eskel isn't sure what to do with all of this—if he's honest with himself, he feels kind of lost. Almost like his feet have been swept from beneath him, and yet, how can he claim to feel so unbalanced and shaken by one night?</p><p>Jaskier is breathing deeply, still very much asleep against him, and now that he has a chance to lay still and think, Eskel cannot figure this out. It had been one thing, seeing Jaskier during the medieval epic poem seminar and being completely charmed by him, but Eskel had been stone cold intimidated. Why wouldn't he be? Jaskier had been so thoroughly overjoyed about being combative to the presenter that he took one look at that gorgeous face and hightailed it. Actually, Eskel had seen Jaskier a handful of times after that, but he’d kept his distance, palms sweating like a middle school kid wanting to ask the person they like to the anti-drug awareness school dance. So when Jaskier had shown up beside him in the line for hotel rooms, Eskel had almost nearly panicked and run off.</p><p>Almost.</p><p>He didn't anticipate that Jaskier would be… so fun to talk to. Even though the nerves stayed all night, even though Eskel still feels like there is <i>no</i> way Jaskier could ever be <i>this</i> into him, he can't say he regrets a single second of this whole encounter. He can't regret that he'd been fucked to tears and overstimulation and still felt accepted and cherished, never <i>mind</i> how thoroughly embarrassing it had been to cum with just a little bit of dirty talk and some touching. And even then, Jaskier hadn't laughed at him and made it a point to check in to make sure everything was okay; a courtesy that really is so small made him feel treasured. Sentiment that is liable to become more dangerous the longer Eskel lays here.</p><p>With Jaskier tucked up against him, it feels <i>right</i>, like Eskel has been missing this piece of the puzzle, finally found in an eccentric that defies all of his understanding. It feels too private of a question to ask Jaskier about gender, but he has a feeling that his own perception isn't quite right either for his assumptions. Male seems to work best based on others Eskel knows who are trans, but maybe it's a question he wants to know the answer to—not in a selfish wanting to know intimate details for bragging rights way or anything like that, but just so he has a more complete picture of the person snuggling deeper into his chest.</p><p>Eskel is careful about pushing Jaskier’s hair out of his eyes, watching him sleep in the low light. He's gorgeous, <i>legitimately</i>, and not just because he's the most attractive person Eskel has ever slept with. The word almost feels laughable now, Jaskier having dropped it so casually toward Eskel that he can almost believe it. Maybe he <i>should</i> believe it, considering how Jaskier had tripled down every time Eskel got self conscious. Maybe he has a sixth sense of that kind of thing, because <i>really</i>, it was <i>every</i> time Eskel became overwhelmed by him that Jaskier said or did something unbearably lovely to ground him. </p><p>And now that Eskel is already awake, that means this will end much sooner than he would like. What is he supposed to do though? Ask Jaskier to run away with him? Or would it be too much to ask him to stay another day so Eskel can have his fill and hopefully make this easier when they realize, no, their lives must move on? Has anyone else on this earth ever felt like a single person could throw off their equilibrium? </p><p>His heart beats shallowly, <i>painfully</i> in his chest. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous to make himself suffer by imagining this could be more, but a little bit of emotional hurt won't stop him. Jaskier is… incredible. An absolutely luminous person with a personality that is searing itself into Eskel’s heart. Having him in his arms right now feels like being complete, even for how awkwardly he had gone about asking if it were okay to hold him—Jaskier hadn't even hesitated to pull him closer after their adventurous and idealistic night. </p><p>Hope is a hell of a thing to have in this situation, but it is painfully easy to dash while he runs under the assumption that last night had truly been a one time encounter. He doesn't want to know where Jaskier is going today, doesn't want the confirmation that it's far away from his own destination… Eskel isn't sure if he can handle <i>knowing</i>, already so foolishly enamored.</p><p>Jaskier mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep, rolling over onto his back and freeing Eskel’s arm so he can get up. He's at least careful so he doesn't disturb him, moving about slowly and silently so he can go hide out in the bathroom for a little while and stew in his own foolheaded feelings. By the time he relieves himself and washes his hands, he has calmed down a little bit more; being in his own head is not going to end well, so he tries to pull himself out of it. </p><p>When he gets back to bed, Jaskier has taken it upon himself to roll into where Eskel had been laying, curled up in the blankets. For a moment, he's not sure if he should climb in on the other side or try to move him, but Jaskier looks up at him with a sleepy glare that freezes him in place. “W-What?”</p><p>He stays silent for a long, unnerving pause before scooting back on the bed and lifting the blanket. “Get back in so I can leech your heat…”</p><p>“Oh, is that all I’m good for, sugar?” Eskel asks with a quiet chuckle that he hopes sounds more confident than he feels after stewing in his own head all morning. </p><p>“It will be if you don't get under the covers in the next three seconds,” Jaskier says, shaking his arm as he keeps his hold.</p><p>Eskel hums and sits back down on the mattress, but he's completely unprepared for Jaskier climbing atop him with his calves on either side of Eskel’s thighs, leaning against his chest as they fall back against the pillows like lead weights. Jaskier brings the blankets more securely around them, resting his head on Eskel’s chest and going boneless. Soft, pliant, breathing deep and wrapping around him completely. “Sorry I woke you up…”</p><p>“That guy and his wife throwing shit around and swearing in the hallway kinda woke me up anyway,” Jaskier says, sleepily, readjusting himself again to lay more fully against Eskel. “I dreamed you had a goat though.”</p><p>Eskel chuckles as he wraps his arms around Jaskier’s waist, indulging himself in his deep desire to kiss his hair. “I do have a goat.”</p><p>“Why do I know that?” It’s a soft, rhetorical question, one that feels strange between them. Something about this is a difficultly familiar feeling, but so far removed from <i>why</i> that Eskel is hard pressed to identify the cause. Even with his own earlier turbulent thoughts, laying here with Jaskier feels so <i>easy</i>. “What’s her name?”</p><p>“Lil’ Blea—”</p><p>“—Bleater,” Jaskier mumbles in unison with Eskel trailing off. Eskel has no coherent response to that, stupefied into silence. There is <i>no</i> way that Jaskier could have known that unless it is the world’s most incredibly lucky guess. “Hmm, I think she would sacrifice me for a single handful of hay even if she acts nice.”</p><p>“You know my goat better than half my family, then. Are you some kinda psychic with prophetic dreams?” </p><p>“I used to dream about painting a lot, like, I would be really good at it. I can't hold a paint brush to save my life, but I’d have this dream and by the end I would always see the most handsome man I’d ever seen in my life, and he would give me fresh bread he made himself just to see me smile… He had a goat, too.” Jaskier sinks further into Eskel’s chest, somehow, nuzzling Eskel’s collarbone. </p><p>He readjusts them so Jaskier doesn't fall asleep in a weird position, straightening his legs out and saving him the hip strain he will no doubt have later if they lock up in the weird position. Like this, he can feel every single breath alongside the wild beating of Jaskier’s heart. “I can make a pretty decent loaf of bread.”</p><p>“Then you’re never getting rid of me.” Jaskier is mumbling now into the center of Eskel’s chest, and he can tell he's dropping off a little now. It’s almost unbearable, to have to lay here like this, knowing it's temporary. “Do you have any weird psychic extrasensory fourth dimensional fever dream hallucination memories about me?”</p><p>Eskel breathes in deep and hums it out slowly, his hands wandering of their own free will as he rubs at Jaskier’s lower back. Something does come to mind immediately, a shot in the dark that couldn't possibly be right, but he says, “You don't like lemon flavoring in some things, but there's no consistency in what you don't like it in and what you do.”</p><p>Jaskier freezes atop him, the tension seeping back into his limbs. He moves his legs again so he's back to sitting in Eskel’s lap, leaning down with his hands on his stomach for support. “Why do you know that?”</p><p>“And you're…” Eskel hesitates, rolling the thought around in his head for another second, but it's vague enough of an inkling that he says it anyway. “You’ve got a food allergy for something stupid. The <i>really</i> stupid kind of stupid.”</p><p>“It <i>is</i> stupid, I could talk your ear off for an hour about it. Have you been reading my diary while I was asleep?” Jaskier is laughing though, so at least this weird surprised air between them isn't <i>actually</i> weird. “Wanna guess what it is?” The only problem is Jaskier asks it with a little bounce in his lap right above Eskel’s dick. </p><p>“Give me a hint?” Eskel’s hands find their way back to Jaskier’s back, this time pushing the shirt up just enough so his fingertips can press against soft, warm skin. He doesn't miss the tremor that ghosts through Jaskier, so Eskel boldly rubs his thumb over the bumps of Jaskier’s spine. </p><p>“...” Jaskier breathes out a long, quiet breath, pressing down into Eskel’s lap at the same time. It’s information he tucks away for later.</p><p>Later?</p><p>There isn't going to <i>be</i> a later.</p><p>Eskel pulls his thumb away in one quick, jerky motion, instead moving his hands to the outsides of Jaskier’s thighs. “No?”</p><p>“<i>Gods</i>, it’s fucking <i>parsley</i>,” Jaskier says, bending down to rest his head on Eskel’s shoulder. </p><p>Jaskier’s breath puffs out over Eskel’s neck, and it feels like his spine is the steel frame of a suspension bridge, gently swaying in a gust of wind. It’s too much, somehow, so Eskel takes a couple of steps back and brings it back to horny. Much safer to ask, “Can I eat you out?”</p><p>“<i>Please</i> let me ride your face, can't stop thinking about it.” Jaskier’s hand comes up to cup Eskel’s jaw, rubbing his thumb over his lip, kissing him on the corner of the mouth. </p><p>The meeting of their lips is less a kiss and more an accidental turn of Eskel’s head after Jaskier let go of his chin. Jaskier’s teeth sink into his bottom lip, and that breaks the tension between them. Eskel <i>growls</i>, grabbing Jaskier by the hips. Hard enough that it might leave bruises, and part of him isn't sorry about it; he wants to mark him up and make Jaskier remember him at least for the time a bruise would take to fade. </p><p>Jaskier moans against his lips before he's getting kissed hard. He feels <i>powerless</i> very suddenly, melting back against the pillows while Jaskier’s hands start to smooth up his stomach to his chest. It feels unfair that Jaskier is aware his nipples are sensitive, that just lightly pinching and rolling them between his fingertips is enough to make his head swim and his abdomen clench up. His breath comes out in a hard puff through his mouth, right against Jaskier’s tongue as it’s slipping inside—this kiss feels a little desperate and a little different than the easier ones the previous night. And Eskel will take whatever he can get, whatever Jaskier will give to him. </p><p>He would give Jaskier the world if he asked.</p><p>Taking it upon himself to shove Jaskier’s boxers down, they part finally so Eskel can lay himself down fully to make it easier to have his face straddled. Jaskier sits on his chest, so close to his face and still just far enough where Eskel can't reach him. Close enough that he can smell the musky scent of arousal—he can almost <i>taste</i> it. Jaskier grabs his face with both hands though, looking down at him with a lovely look on his face that makes Eskel’s heart skip a couple of beats.</p><p>Eskel feels breathless, suddenly, watching Jaskier in the low light seeping in from behind the curtains. It's almost as if he's pinned in place, waiting for Jaskier to take what he wants, the moment lasting nerve-wrackingly longer than necessary. “You’re so good for me, such a good boy, Eskel, make me so wet. Make me cum, gorgeous.”</p><p>Finally it feels like he can move again, gripping Jaskier’s thighs and dragging his cunt close enough to inhale deeply while nosing into soft, dark hair. Jaskier moans first, grinding down against him while Eskel pushes his tongue up into him. He’s dripping already, and Eskel doesn’t know how to handle himself, feeling like a wild <i>animal</i>. Fingering him and feeling <i>exactly</i> what Jaskier says Eskel does to him makes him want to believe the things he says. </p><p>Tasting him last night had gone unappreciated when he’d been under the impression that this truly would be a random hookup. Now, though, as he wriggles his tongue up inside him so good that Jaskier grips the headboard while his spine turns to jello by the sound of it, Eskel feels a little like this is a last meal. Maybe somewhere, somehow, he’s been put to death before, and Jaskier had brought him his last meal then. Maybe then, too, they had connected and mourned briefly together, gifting each other conversation and parting ways. Or maybe Jaskier helped him escape, running away from his own miseries at the same time so that they may have a chance together.</p><p>Maybe this doesn’t have to end.</p><p>Well, it surely does—it has to end somewhere, of course.</p><p>Jaskier’s legs shake around Eskel’s head as he grinds down against his tongue. His own moans are absolutely <i>indecent</i> when paired with the obscene sound of Jaskier’s cunt. One of Jaskier’s hands reaches down to keep Eskel’s head close, gripping him by his hair to hold him still so he can ride his tongue. “Perfect for me, make me feel <i>so good</i>,” Jaskier says, devolving into babbling and whining when Eskel thumbs at his clit and his other rubbing at the bumps of his vertebrae.</p><p>His spine goes straight when he cums, nearly crushing Eskel’s head with surprisingly strong thighs; Jaskier’s slick dribbles down Eskel’s chin, onto his neck. He keeps going though, tonguing Jaskier into overstimulation and making him shake and whine. Eskel reaches up to grab Jaskier by the hip, making the move to scoot down on the bed and turn them over, fucking up the sheets in the process. After the linen gets kicked toward the end of the bed, Eskel moves back up to kiss him, groaning into it when Jaskier grabs his cock through his boxers. There’s a wet patch against where the head of his cock rests behind it, throbbing at the attention.</p><p>Jaskier roughly bites Eskel’s bottom lip again, exhaling hard and impatiently. “Fuck my thighs.” Jaskier sighs against his mouth, hand reaching into Eskel’s boxers to wrap around his cock. </p><p>“You sure?” Eskel asks, panting quietly through his nose, his hand rubbing over Jaskier’s wet pussy.</p><p>“Wanna feel you so fuckin’ bad,” Jaskier says, tugging at the base of his cock. “Please?” It’s a bad idea; the last thing Eskel wants to do is fuck it up and not pay attention to where his dick is and have it accidentally slip in. Eskel still rolls Jaskier onto his side, pressing up against his back. Reaching between them, Eskel lines up between Jaskier’s thighs before they clench down. His cunt and his inner thighs are slick enough to make it easy to buck his hips forward, dragging a moan from Jaskier. </p><p>“Feel so fuckin’ good.” Eskel pulls Jaskier’s shirt off and tosses it to the side, mumbling into the back of his neck. He knows though if he says anything else it might be <i>stupid</i>, so he tries to keep his mouth shut from here on. Eskel’s cock is so hard it <i>hurts</i>, makes him feel short of breath as he fucks Jaskier’s thighs while being told how good he’s being, perfect, handsome—he can almost believe it. </p><p>Having hope is painfully exhausting, but it feels worth it this time.</p><p>The wet slap of skin gets erratic the more he distracts himself with thinking about being buried inside Jaskier. Hot and wet and stuffed full by him. The feel of Jaskier stretched around his fist had been absolutely <i>unreal</i>, feeling him cum around him and imagining that on his cock. His hips speed up, feeling a little like he might lose his mind. </p><p>Jaskier whines, leaning his head back onto Eskel’s shoulder and breathing raggedly just under his jaw. “Fuck,<i>mmh</i>—” He cuts himself off by latching onto a spot on the side of Eskel’s throat; he knows a mark will be left, and the thought of Jaskier wanting to mark him up too makes him grip his hips tighter. Makes him fuck his thighs harder, chasing his orgasm, but it’s not enough.</p><p>Pulling back makes them both moan at the loss, but Eskel turns Jaskier onto his back again, taking his own cock in hand and jerking off. Eskel cums with a deep groan, emptying himself onto Jaskier’s stomach and chest in thick ropes; the sight of Jaskier flushed and panting, covered in Eskel’s jizz makes him feel something deeply primal that he refuses to put a name to it. Jaskier looks up at him and drags him down into a rough kiss while Eskel gets a hand between them to finger Jaskier to another climax. “Feel good, sugar?” Eskel uses three fingers from the start, crooking them up and feeling Jaskier shiver. “Taste so fuckin’ good, y’get so goddamn wet for me…” </p><p>An overwhelmed cry is muffled against Eskel’s neck where Jaskier buries his face. Jaskier’s back arches deep when Eskel feels the gush of him cumming into his hand, pressing their fronts together and smearing their fluids between them—he’s the one that pulls Eskel into laying down atop him while they catch their breath, the scarred side of his face resting between Jaskier’s tits. Eskel’s limbs feel like dead weight, panting to try and catch his breath.</p><p>When gentle fingers start combing through his hair, Eskel has to close his eyes and keep himself in check. It’s hard to relax at first, but having his hair played with is soothing enough that the tension drains from his shoulders while they lay in silence. Feeling and listening to Jaskier’s heartbeat makes this so much harder, being given such an intimate act of affection without even asking feels like his swaying bridge of a spine is threatening to collapse completely. </p><p>And it's over far too soon when there's a knock at the room door, making Eskel groan his complaint even as he gets up to pull his boxers back on and a shirt so he can answer it, though he takes the sheet and tosses it over Jaskier just in case. The knock has moved onto the other side of the hall by the time Eskel opens the door, and he sees two trays on the floor that he picks up to bring inside.</p><p>“Who was it?” Jaskier asks, peeking out from the sheet while Eskel places the trays on the foot of the bed so he can go over and open the curtains. “Oh my god is that <i>food</i>?”</p><p>“I didn't know what you like, so when I brought the breakfast menu card down to the front desk last night, I guessed,” he says, resolutely not looking at Jaskier when he finally pushes the curtains back. He still hasn’t looked at the clock, has no idea what time it is, but from this high up he can see out over the coast where mist hangs over the water. The airport being seaside is probably what made the storm the previous night so bad, but if it hadn’t been, Eskel would have never known this. As brief as it is, of course, because they are on a time limit with Eskel rapidly chickening out of entertaining any of his thoughts. </p><p>“Youuuuu are delightful Eskel, do you know that? I hope you know that,” Jaskier says as he starts shuffling around on the bed, moving the trays. The television turns back on after that, though Jaskier changes the channel, flipping through them at random until he lands on a movie that Eskel would recognize <i>anywhere</i>. “Oh shit, do you care if I keep this on?”</p><p>“...Is that Exterminator 2?” He asks, finally turning around and confirming that yes, it <i>is</i>. And it’s at the part where John Conrad’s shithead foster father gets speared by the fake mother’s arm sword. “When I was a kid, my dad taped this from the TV so we had a bootleg copy, used to watch it all the time, commercials and all.”</p><p>“It made me gay,” Jaskier says, and then as an immediate afterthought, “<i>And</i> trans, but that was later when I was older. But I wanted to hang off of Snarah Conrad’s arms so bad, and I wanted to climb T-420 like a tree.”</p><p>Eskel finally gets back on the bed, sitting up with his legs crossed while they start going through the contents of their breakfast. An omelette, hash browns, and toast on one tray, pancakes and fruit on the other along with some sausage. It’s decided to be a pretty even split, and Jaskier gets up to make coffee with the machine in the bathroom while he takes a moment to clean himself up. He comes back dressed in a different shirt and underwear, two cups of coffee in hand, and they spend the next hour or so eating and picking apart the film for their favorite things.</p><p>They get to the Cyberdyke Systems engineer Cryson’s dead man’s switch being activated, and the explosion happens at the <i>exact</i> time their alarms go off simultaneously, making Jaskier jump. They both move to turn their alarms off, but decide that since they’re already mostly awake that it’s fine to lay there and finish out the movie. It turns out they both scheduled the 10am shuttle over to the airport, so they have plenty of time to lay around before they pack.</p><p>It’s …comfortable, laying up against the pillows with his head resting atop Jaskier’s since he’s using Eskel’s shoulder to lounge against. Jaskier’s arms are wrapped around his own, keeping him close while they watch the T-420 sink down into the molten steel. John Conrad’s grief feels a little more poignant right now, having found something he wanted in the robot and then having to say goodbye after his life has already been changed. It’s an absolutely pathetic parallel that Eskel cannot believe he’s drawing, but he <i>will</i> make it even if he’s sick of his own shit right now. </p><p>Checking the clock, it’s just barely past nine, so there is still time to revel in Jaskier’s company. The channel on the TV gets changed (since <i>neither</i> of them have any desire to watch an Adam Crandler movie), and they end up on a nature documentary. It should be soothing, but the ever-present anxiety of the ticking clock is starting to claw at Eskel. The impending end of this charade is getting closer and closer, but the indecision is paralyzing, almost. Having to run through the consequences in his head, of saying something stupid on the chance that Jaskier would ever immediately reciprocate. </p><p><i>Gods</i>, Eskel wants to believe Jaskier, though, him and his sweet nothings whispered against his skin that feel like they carry more weight than the digressions of passion. Something deeper feels soothed and raw at the same time, but if Eskel is wrong? He doesn’t want to burden Jaskier with having to shoulder how recklessly profound his own feelings have become in so short a time. The tension that seeps back into Eskel’s limbs and body is unavoidable the more he thinks about how these things don’t happen to people. Certainly not to people like himself; not with someone like <i>Jaskier</i>. </p><p>It’s a trust fall that Eskel cannot afford to put himself through, but it’s nice to think about.</p><p>The racing of his head and his heart trip over themselves when Jaskier’s hand reaches up to guide Eskel into a kiss. It tastes stale and with the remnants of breakfast still on their breath, but Eskel doesn’t really fucking care right now, wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s waist to pull him closer. One of his knees pushes through Jaskier’s legs cautiously, the kiss staying slow and a little awkward until Jaskier moans into his mouth and Eskel can relax a little. Enough that he can close his eyes and focus on the feel of their spit-slick slide of their lips and tongues. </p><p>Right now he doesn’t really <i>care</i> what time it is, a slow fire burning frantically higher the more he matches Jaskier’s provocations. Somewhere on the bed, Jaskier’s phone starts ringing; the interruption pushes an angry little growl from Jaskier’s throat as he looks at the screen, declining it and tossing his phone. They barely get their lips together again before the ringtone sounds out again, and this time Jaskier answers and snaps out, “What? <i>What?</i> What could you possibly want right now Marx?”</p><p>That tells him all he needs to know, so Eskel doesn’t bother stopping, pushing his thigh further between Jaskier’s legs and loudly kissing his neck. His teeth latch on and Jaskier huffs a breath while they wait for his rude colleague to stop stammering. “I wanted to know what your plans were since we’re on the same flight and you weren’t answering my texts.”</p><p>“Because <i>my</i> plans are none of <i>your</i> fucking business, and if you call me again I will hunt you down and <i>peel</i> you, do you understand me?” Jaskier sounds properly threatening, and it is unbelievable how hot Eskel thinks he is for it. He bites down on his neck harder, sucking on the spot and making Jaskier moan low in his throat.</p><p>“Wait, a-are you—”</p><p>Eskel cuts the conversation off this time when he chuckles against Jaskier’s throat and mumbles, “You can borrow my crossbow, sweetheart.”</p><p>“<i>Goodbye</i>,” Jaskier says pointedly and clearly into the receiver, ending the call and tossing his phone back down. “I am <i>so</i> sorry…”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it,” Eskel says, pressing his forehead into Jaskier’s shirt and breathing in deeply. His perfume has long faded away, but Eskel wishes he could smell it again right now—that perfect, deeply earthy scent that made his head swim. Like woodfire in a damp forest, leaves plastering the uneven floor and the potent rot that comes with their mellow decay. </p><p>Jaskier whines, picking his phone back up by the feel of it. “It’s half nine, we should probably get up.”</p><p>“Probably,” Eskel echoes, but he makes no move to get up. Not yet.</p><p>At least, not until <i>his</i> phone goes off on the nightstand, making him groan as he rolls over onto his back to reach across and grab it. It’s Lambert, and Eskel rolls his eyes and sits up, answering while he stands and puts it to his ear. “What?”</p><p>“Don’t you <i>what</i> me, jackass. I’ve been texting you all fucking morning and you haven’t answered a single one, what gives?”</p><p>“So what? I was busy, I would’ve seen it eventually. Now, <i>please</i>, I’m just about to leave the hotel so I can get to the airport.” And really, he doesn’t have the patience to be reminded that real life is waiting, that this tryst was anything more than a brief event. </p><p>“Listen, I just wanted you to know Geralt had a horse emergency, so he had to take Roach to the vet along with Aiden since he’s too much of a mess to go by himself. So, Aiden can’t make it to pick you up.”</p><p>“Oof,” Eskel says, finding his backpack and shoulder bag so he can start to make sure he’s all packed away. “Okay, yeah, I get that. Poor girl, d’ya know if it’s bad?”</p><p>“Not sure yet, Aiden couldn’t really get the details out of Geralt, but I’m sure it’s all we’ll hear about for the next six months. I texted Ciri, but she might still be in class since she’s not answering.”</p><p>“I’m fine grabbing a cab, I don’t wanna make her drive all over if she’s already at class.” The only piece of clothing missing is the shirt Jaskier had worn last night, and he finds it on the floor, packing it away. “I’ll figure it out later, I’m not too worried. Let me know if anything changes, yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah yeah, will do,” Lambert says before hanging up first in a typical move. </p><p>Somewhere behind him, Jaskier is moving about the room—Eskel hears him zip his suitcase back up just as he’s finishing getting his own things together. He’ll have to check the bathroom one last time, but otherwise, they have a couple more minutes before they have to head down, and Eskel’s heart is in his throat. </p><p>He’s standing in front of the window again, looking out toward the sea and stewing in his own silence; he doesn’t expect arms wrapping around his waist from behind, or Jaskier pressing his forehead to the back of his neck. “Everything okay?”</p><p>“That? Yeah, my ride from the airport had a horse emergency to take care of, so the only person who might be able to pick me up is my niece. She’s got Monday classes though, so she’ll probably be at the university,” Eskel says, trying not to lean back into Jaskier’s embrace. The sooner they walk away from each other, the sooner he can stop his pining.</p><p>“Aw, I hope everything is okay with the horse, that sucks.”</p><p>“She’s a tough old cookie, but my brother’s known that she’s been slowing down for a few years anyway… That’s a whole hour conversation <i>minimum</i>, though.”</p><p>Jaskier laughs, squeezing him tighter, “I’ll trust you on that.So… we should probably get going if we’re gonna catch the shuttle since there’s probably gonna be a huge line. You said you’re Terminal C too right?”</p><p>“Mm,” they’d talked about only that, not their actual destinations. “Yeah. Flight is around noon.”</p><p>“Okay, yeah, then we wanna get there like now since security’s probably gonna be backed up.” Jaskier drops a kiss onto Eskel’s cheek before letting him go. On their final check of the room to make sure nobody is leaving anything behind, they decide to strip the bead for housekeeping and make sure no bodily fluid leftovers are hanging in the open. That, and they leave behind a tip to cover their crimes. </p><p>There’s still time, then, Eskel reasons, to have his hope, even if he cannot find his words. They stand together in the back of the elevator before too many people crowd in, and Eskel has to turn himself so he can be a human barrier to save Jaskier from having to be crushed by strangers. As if that’s not what they are—Eskel feels a degree of protectiveness and possessiveness, moreso when he spots Valdo in the line toward the front of the lobby for shuttles. The second that rude little man takes one look at them, Eskel puts his arm around Jaskier’s waist and stares him down. It at least makes Jaskier laugh, even as Eskel <i>aches</i>.</p><p>They sit together on the shuttle, Jaskier leaning against him. Eskel</p><p>There is still some time when they arrive at Terminal C.</p><p>There’s still time when they check in.</p><p>Time as they go through security.</p><p>There’s no more time.</p><p>Time is up.</p><p>Eskel will have to head toward gate C-6, but he’s frozen in place while Jaskier hesitates in front of him as if he wants to say something. His mouth closes, and Eskel understands—what is there to say to one another after everything? Nothing that he can rationalize working out well for him even with his heart tangled up in a web of hope. </p><p>Jaskier hesitates again before leaning forward to grab Eskel’s face to give him a kiss that makes him feel exposed and unsteady on his feet. The kiss is soft, slow in its chasteness, a sense of terrible adoration swelling through his chest. At some point, Jaskier had re-applied his perfume because it’s <i>all</i> he can smell, and it’s all Eskel can do to memorize the scent while kissing back borderline desperately. When Jaskier moves back enough to pant into his ear, Eskel is breathless, feeling himself crumble under the weight of an honest display of affection that he believes.</p><p>“I would have let you fuck me this morning, Eskel,” Jaskier says, holding his face close. “And I mean everything I said to you.”</p><p>There’s a press of lips to his scarred cheek before Eskel realizes that Jaskier is turning away, leaving him frozen in place. By the time he even thinks to try and grab Jaskier’s hand to pull him back and say <i>anything</i> to him, he’s gone in a sea of people.</p><p>It feels <i>wrong</i>. </p><p>The shock of it can be felt down to his bones, radiating outward. Like part of himself is missing, walking further away from him and leaving Eskel with an unfulfillable longing. His blood is boiling for so many reasons—<i>least</i> of all how badly he wants Jaskier. But Eskel knows he can’t stand here forever paralyzed by shock, so he makes sure he has his stuff before shakily walking toward his gate. He finds a spot to sit in while he waits, feeling like a part of himself is now missing, and why? Because someone showed him a nice evening due to the weirdest set of circumstances anyone has probably ever encountered?</p><p>There was no other way for this to end, though Eskel replays their morning fun and presses to the tender spot on his neck that Jaskier had bitten down on to muffle himself. What had started out as someone that he’d brag about around a drunken camp fire when he’d first gotten a taste of Jaskier last night has now turned into something that feels like it’s cutting deep. How stupid, to get so attached so quickly. To believe that he could ever have a future where he came home to someone he feels like he’s known for centuries when in reality Eskel had almost done something far more irresponsible. </p><p>His breath comes out in a shaky exhale as he checks his phone, seeing the missed texts from Geralt, then Aiden, the bunch from Lambert explaining the situation again, and then finally one from Ciri that says: ‘hey can you tell uncle lamby to chill the fuck out im in class BUT my prof canceled my last one for today so i can come get u (:’</p><p>Eskel texts her back and tells her the time he should be in and that he’ll text her, then he texts Lambert back to tell him what Ciri said just in case, and he sits in silence with himself until the gate opens to a flood of people coming out. Once the plane has had everyone on it de-board, Eskel stands when the departure groups start getting announced for boarding. He’s the first in line for the third group, getting on early so he can sit and nurse his traitorous heart for becoming so attached so quickly. </p><p>It wasn’t meant to be, is his thought as he stores his backpack in the overhead storage at his row. And his window seat on the right side of the plane is secured so that he won’t have to look or talk to anyone or be examined too closely. But he does hear an obnoxious voice that turns Eskel’s mood sour, looking up in time to see the pinched expression on one Valdo Marx’s face as they catch eyes, to which his own are narrowed immediately. Half a second later, his brain catches up with him when he locks his gaze onto blue eyes that go equally wide and reckless.</p><p>Is it really is too much to ask the universe to torture him a little bit less? Eskel’s eyes follow Jaskier insistently until he sits down in a seat a couple rows up from his own and across the aisle. Now though, the person who sits next to him is a caustic looking old gentleman who pays zero attention to him, but just across from <i>him</i> is Valdo, who looks back at him again and blanches. </p><p>It is a two hour flight, and Eskel suffers through every single second of it. Between the snores of the old man next to him, a baby that is crying somewhere near him that is going unsoothed, and the backwards peeks he’s getting from Jaskier, Eskel feels like he’s going to go insane. Jaskier is so close to him, so close that every single nerve in his body feels lit up with the need to jump up and tell him—he still doesn’t have the words for what he feels, but Eskel can’t let this go.</p><p>The plane lands after spending every agonizing moment of it feeling like he’s going to pass away from the anxiety of having no choice but to wait. And the wait to get off is even worse, having to crouch under the bin while waiting for the old guy to get out of his seat, but he's still <i>sitting</i>. He's slow getting up, Jaskier is <i>getting off the plane</i>, and the old man won't move fast enough. Valdo, across the aisle, gives him a cautious look that Eskel returns as meanly as possible, and at least that is a small comfort that he looks properly unnerved.</p><p>It’s the worst feeling in the world, again, to lose sight of Jaskier, it makes Eskel want to panic, having to wait so long to get his bag and then to have to cut into the aisle since nobody was being nice enough to let him go; usually that's not a problem, Eskel would be fine waiting if he weren't trembling from his efforts to keep himself composed and calm. It takes too goddamn long to get off the plane, and down the walkway into the terminal, and then Eskel can't see him. Oh <i>Gods</i> he cannot see Jaskier, did he already leave? Did he decide Eskel isn't worth it? </p><p>This rejection is deeply, profoundly, and instantaneously mortifying. In a panic now, because for a fucking <i>second</i> Eskel believed him and it <i>did</i> turn out to be foolish. He looks around again, briefly, looking over people gathered next to walls and sitting down in the gate areas to try and catch a flash of blue eyes, but no, Jaskier is gone. He’s gone, and it feels like a bucket of ice water is being poured through Eskel’s veins, the cold feeling creeping through his extremities. Piteously, irresponsibly, he takes another look around the room before walking forward so he doesn’t have to see busy people ignoring the sounds of an even busier terminal. </p><p>It feels like being punched in the gut, like the only meaningful connection he's ever had has slipped away because he couldn't speak up for himself and tell Jaskier even a fraction of what their time together felt like to him. Even if Eskel <i>knows</i> now that the feeling hadn't been mutual, sitting with this in his chest will make him ache forever with no end in sight. He feels <i>repulsive</i>.</p><p>Taking in a shaky breath, Eskel resigns himself to at least have his impending breakdown in private, and he pulls his phone out to text his niece while walking. He almost leaps out of his skin and drops the damn thing when someone grabs his elbow and turns him around, throwing their arms around his neck. “I’m a fucking idiot, I’m so sorry,” Jaskier says, shivering with the same relief that Eskel feels wash over him when he tentatively puts his arms around his waist. “I think I might be in love with you, is that weird?”</p><p>And just like that, Eskel allows himself his hope.</p><p>“No,” Eskel says, finally breathing and almost feeling dizzy with his torment alleviated so thoroughly. “No I… I think I might be in love with you too.” Saying it, making the words real, it’s terrifying. But it feels right. “I believe you.” Now, and what Jaskier said before they parted about meaning what he said to him. </p><p>Jaskier takes a half step back, kissing him, laughing quietly against his lips as he does it again before taking another step back. “Give me your phone.” It’s still unlocked in Eskel’s hand, though not without a keymash to Ciri that he accidentally sent, and he has a reply of ‘????’ sitting on read, but he sends off a quick, ‘Still on the plane sorry.’ to cover himself before handing it over after closing out the text. Jaskier brings up the dialpad and calls his own phone on it before handing it back. “There.”</p><p>Eskel gets it in his pocket, finally taking an easy breath even if both of them realize how bizarre this is right at the same time. “So…” Jaskier is… lovely, for lack of a better word. Gorgeous, even tousled from the flight and from their morning that neither of them really got a chance to straighten up from. He looks happy, and it’s infectious enough that Eskel can even feel himself lighting up. They both laugh, basking in the ridiculousness, and Eskel can’t keep the smile off his face. “So we’re just gonna go right from the get-go with that?”</p><p>“Yeah, huh, that was kind of a lot,” Jaskier says, rocking back on his heels. “We don’t have time to unpack very sudden love confessions right now, but that’s okay, because now we can see each other again—oh,” he cuts himself off, clapping his hands together as he thinks, “my Gods—I need to take you on a date, can we go on a date? Like, not today, I have way too much to do when I get home but Friday?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Eskel says with zero hesitation even though he is <i>well aware</i> that Yen is having one of her work dinners that he said he’d go to so Geralt wouldn’t be alone amongst people he can’t stand. “Friday works for me.” Geralt owes him a bit of suffering from the last time anyway when one of Yen’s friends had tried to chat him up. That, and he’s pretty sure he would cancel an appointment with the queen herself if Jaskier wanted to spend even a second with him.</p><p>“Okay, great, I don’t know what we’re doing yet but I’m gonna figure it out…” And then quieter, to himself as he pulls out his phone to text someone by the look of it, “I’m gonna take you on sooooo many dates.” He gets a response, Jaskier sends a reply, and then the phone goes away. “I have so many questions for you that I’m gonna have to ask later, because my ride is going to be here in like twenty minutes and I still have to go run to baggage claim, but…”</p><p>Tilting his head, Eskel waits for him to elaborate, but all he gets is a wiggle of Jaskier’s eyebrows while he nods his head in the direction of the bathroom, getting a head start on heading inside. Eskel’s brain catches up with him a half a second later as he scrambles the same way. It’s too large and too bright inside the lobby of the bathroom, rows upon rows of stalls around two different corners. His heart is racing in his chest, jeans already too tight because of his imagination running away with this. </p><p>He finds Jaskier again as he’s entering a stall as far away as possible from the entrance; Eskel takes a look around him to make sure nobody sees him as he opens the door, taking his backpack off to put it on the floor so it’s not in the way. The door gets locked, and Eskel crowds Jaskier against the wall, boxing him in with his hands on his waist. “Hey.”</p><p>“Hey yourself,” Jaskier says softly, grabbing his dick through his jeans. “Don’t make me wait a fucking second longer for this, Eskel.”</p><p>They have time.</p><p>Arguably, all of the time in the world, if Eskel listens to the idealistic part of himself.</p><p>Just not right now since both of their rides are on their respective ways, but Eskel still gets in close and kisses Jaskier while his hands go for the waistband of the leggings. They get pushed down easily, even while Jaskier moves his hands out of the way to undo the button and zipper on Eskel’s jeans. He’s already half hard, and it doesn’t take more than Jaskier moaning into his mouth and jerking him off a little to get him ready. </p><p>One more kiss, and Eskel turns Jaskier around, tugging his leggings down just a little more to get them out of the way. They’re both impatient, but Eskel still takes a second to press Jaskier against the wall with his cock pinned between them. “You sure?”</p><p>“<i>Gods</i> just fuck me, <i>please</i>.” Jaskier leans back against him, head on his shoulder and nipping at Eskel’s jaw before mumbling, “I’m clean, and I’m so fucking wet for you.”</p><p>“Clean too—” A door across the aisle shuts suddenly, making both of them jump a little; Eskel grabs his cock and pulls Jaskier’s panties to the side with the other hand all the same. The stall is way too small for this—for the both of them and their stuff—but they readjust themselves to make it work. Lining himself up, he can feel how wet Jaskier is against the head of his dick, but <i>nothing</i> could have prepared him for how they fit together once he starts sliding in. </p><p>Jaskier’s breath comes out hard against Eskel’s neck, clearly trying to hold himself back from moaning, but <i>fuck</i> does he want to hear it. He wants to make Jaskier scream and have it echo and not give a fuck if they get tossed out of the airport for public indecency; it's a shame he has the self awareness to know that's not a good idea, so he muffles his own deep groan into Jaskier’s shoulder once his cock is all the way in. The moment he finally breathes, all he can smell is Jaskier’s earthy perfume, and it might make him go insane. This whole situation might, if he's honest. </p><p>Jaskier rocks his hips back and whispers, “<i>Fuck me</i>,” again, so he gets on with it and starts a brutal pace. “Oh <i>Gods</i>, oh fuck, <i>oh my God</i>,” quietly babbled while Jaskier clamps down around his cock. Wet and tight and hot and <i>perfect</i> and getting a little too loud, even with the constant background of ambient men’s bathroom noises. Jaskier keens just loud enough that Eskel moves one hand up to clamp down over his mouth, the other still firmly on his hip. The surprise of it makes Jaskier shiver against him, but Eskel has a hard time keeping a single thought in his head when Jaskier’s teeth sink into the back of his middle finger.</p><p>It’s the least romantic fuck in the world, but Eskel feels like he might explode. Hard and aching and already overstimulated by how Jaskier smells and every little sound he manages to make. One of Jaskier’s hands braces against the wall, but the other is grabbing Eskel’s wrist, fingernails biting in hard to pull his hand away and dropping it. Their hips crush together as Jaskier leans back to wrap his arm around Eskel’s neck, gripping the collar of his shirt and tugging. He’s not sure which one of them move their heads so they can kiss again, but he’s glad to succumb to not having to think, just moving together—Jaskier’s cunt around his cock, their shared breathing, the way Jaskier’s body fits in his hands so goddamn perfectly. One of his hands has migrated to holding Jaskier’s chest to squeeze his tit, the other gripping his stomach and pressing firmly into soft flesh. </p><p>They break apart to breathe, Jaskier shuddering against him while Eskel’s whole body is burning up, and he’s not sure if he’s ever been this turned on in his life. “Can feel you so deep, love,” Jaskier says, biting at Eskel’s jaw, leaving a wet kiss over stubble. “Feels fucking <i>incredible</i>.” </p><p>Eskel <i>whines</i>, hips stuttering in his pace as a shiver rips up his spine. Someone just outside the door coughs loud enough to bring Eskel back to their location, but he can’t care enough to be ashamed; in the direction of over the door, Eskel roughly says, “Mind your fucking business.”</p><p>Jaskier snickers, and it would be adorable if he didn’t also clench down around him so hard Eskel might be seeing stars. Grunting out a hard breath, Eskel instead bites down on Jaskier’s clothed shoulder to keep himself quiet. Jaskier doesn’t seem to care anymore whether or not anyone hears, grinding back against him and arching forward into Eskel’s hands. “You gonna cum darling? Gonna mark me up and claim me?”</p><p>He feels like an untamed <i>beast</i> in how he fucks Jaskier, half-feral and nearly possessed. Almost like Eskel has been waiting for this for longer than he can fathom, like now that he's found him, he will never let Jaskier go. He wants to sink his claws and his teeth into him, and it feels like he <i>could</i> if they were any sharper. Had they ever been sharp? The last thing Eskel wants is to hurt or scar him, but marking Jaskier? Planting himself so deeply that nobody would ever question who he belongs to? He wants it, he wants <i>everything</i> with him. Eskel wants to be <i>owned</i>.</p><p>“You're mine now wolf,” Jaskier sighs out as if reading his mind, tugging at his shirt collar again while his other hand comes to rest over Eskel’s on his stomach, fingers threading through his. “Gonna keep you forever, have you fuck me full every day. Want you to <i>breed me</i>, fucking ruin me, want…” </p><p>Biting down harder on Jaskier’s shoulder, Eskel can't hear the rest of what he says over his own pulse pounding. His hips snap forward as he cums, spilling deep as he can get and hard enough to shake with the force. Jaskier’s hand slips off of his so he can bring himself off a few moments later; the feel of Jaskier coming around him is just as incredible as he thought it would be. He doesn't have the fortitude to chide himself when Jaskier clenches down tight and keeps him inside, but he does have his wits about him to stop biting him so he can mumble to him, “I’m infertile.”</p><p>“That’s fine,” Jaskier breathes out a shaky breath, but otherwise takes it in stride, turning so he can kiss Eskel chaotically. It’s uncoordinated and messy and hot and everything that Eskel wishes they had time for. How unfortunate that the clock is ticking, a fact that comes back very easily to him when he feels his phone ringing in his pocket. Jaskier, too, sighs and says, “I feel like I could keep going for another hour at <i>least</i>, this isn't fair…”</p><p>“It’s not,” Eskel says as he pulls out, feeling absolutely filthy for the ooze of cum that he can feel following his cock. They both take turns respectfully looking away while the other pisses before he cleans up and tucks himself away, Jaskier straightening himself out similarly. The space they’re in is way too limited for how ridiculous Eskel feels. He’s an idiot, maybe, to place so much faith in someone, Eskel won't deny that. But when Jaskier turns himself around and puts his arms around Eskel’s neck to pull him in for a kiss, he can't regret it. Not when they stand there for a second when they pull apart and Jaskier is looking at him like he's precious—someone to be adored. </p><p>Vulnerability does not come easy to Eskel, it never has. Not when Vesemir first adopted him, not when he started to get to know his siblings, almost never in relationships, and <i>definitely</i> not since his last one ended. Jaskier makes him feel exposed and raw on a level that's going to be hard to confront and accept in the face of whatever the <i>fuck</i> he is feeling right now. It feels like he's volunteering his own punishment, holding onto a gut feeling so closely when he has <i>no</i> idea if this is even real. If Jaskier really does mean it. </p><p>His hope is an agonizing pill to swallow right now, but Jaskier makes it easier when he looks at him with a heartfelt expression and takes a deep breath like it’s tough for him too. “I don't know what we’re doing right now, but I want you to know that I didn't want to walk away from you today. It felt …like I couldn't breathe, and I’ve never felt that before. Not with anybody else,” and Jaskier pauses, taking another breath that seems even harder to take. “Not even people that hurt me—I don’t <i>ever</i> want to feel that again… And I dunno, I really want to figure this out with you, I think you’re incredible.”</p><p>“I…” Eskel can recognize Jaskier baring himself, letting himself be just as vulnerable in this moment with him; it feels natural to curl his arms around him, to pull him closer and try to comfort him. It’s intense, so much so that the words feel thick in his throat and down to his lungs, and it feels like his chest is going to burst from too many strong emotions swirling around at once. “I don’t know what we’re doing right now either, but I wanna figure it out with you too. You walked away, and I felt empty,” his breath catches, chest constricting even while saying some of the hardest words it feels like he’s ever spoken. “And when I got off the plane, I couldn’t see you… I thought you left. I uh, I felt,” Eskel stumbles on another breath, looking away from Jaskier while remembering the spike of rejection he had felt.</p><p>“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Jaskier says, playing with the fine hair at the back of his neck. “Or if you’re not ready, or whatever. As far as I’m concerned, I’m gonna probably text you nonstop, and I’m gonna take you on a date this weekend, and I’m probably gonna ride your dick raw at some point in there too. And I’m <i>definitely</i> gonna annoy you to death with stupid questions. So like maybe in a couple of weeks or months or something we can check back in and have a feelings talk and try to figure out if this is working for us or if we’re both just deranged strangers who were really horny at the right time. I <i>really</i> want it to work out though, for the record.”</p><p>And just like that, <i>again</i>, Jaskier makes it easier. Jaskier already seems to make <i>everything</i> easier. “Really hoping we’re not a bunch of deranged horny strangers,” he says with a chuckle, eyes back on the dazzling blues in front of him. “At least we didn’t get drunk and get hitched like Gritney Speartip did, so I think we’re doing okay.” There’s a succession of flushing in the distance that puts them both back into the present. It’s <i>probably</i> better if they put a halt on personal conversations until they’re not in a public bathroom.</p><p>Eskel’s phone starts to ring again, and Jaskier sighs, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “I think your niece is tired of circling the outside, and Iiiiiiiii need to make it home before all your cum leaks out of me. Wish I had a plug…”</p><p><i>That</i> is a dangerous thing to hear with Eskel feeling like he’s seconds from his softie going hard again—as it is, when he gets home? He’s got a lot of jack off material he’s going to have to work through. “You’ve got a filthy fucking mouth on you, sugar.” </p><p>“Just wait until I get it back on <i>you</i>.” Jaskier winks at him, and Eskel feels enamored. He reaches up to smooth Jaskier’s hair out of his face, tucking a long bit behind his ear and delighting in how adorable it makes him look.</p><p>And Eskel’s phone rings <i>again</i>, making him groan. “Okay, I don’t want my niece to go back to her father and say I made her wait outside the airport for an hour.”</p><p>“Probably better that way, yeah,” Jaskier says, sighing as he picks up his one bag, and Eskel picks up his own, opening the bathroom stall and looking around to mean-mug anyone who might have something to say. They’re in the clear, though, and Eskel heads to the sink to wash hands with Jaskier close behind him.</p><p>A third, very unwanted person joins them after a moment, looking like he’s never been so ill in his life, and Jaskier side eyes him in the mirror with an awful little look. Eskel looks at himself though, taking in the litany of dark bite marks on his neck that he won’t be able to explain away. Not that he’s <i>mad</i> about it, but he’s not quite ready to tell anyone about this. Maybe Lambert—</p><p>“What the fuck are <i>you</i> looking at?”</p><p>“Aw, is that any way to treat a friend, Valdo?”</p><p>“So I’m a friend now? Thought I was an ‘unfortunate colleague’,” Valdo bravely sneers, shaking his hands of water after rinsing his hands off. “Really Julian, fucking that brute in public? Animal. Someone should put you—”</p><p>“The next thing out of your mouth better be an apology, Marx, or you’re not walking out of this airport with teeth, so help me.” All it takes is one mean look in the mirror from Eskel to get him to scramble off toward the exit. “Is he always like that?”</p><p>“He can be, yeah,” Jaskier calls after Valdo’s retreating form with a quiet little giggle on the end that pierces through Eskel’s heart completely. The encounter is inconsequential now, walking out of the bathroom with Jaskier so they can get his suitcase from baggage claim. On the way, Eskel finally calls Ciri back to say he’ll be out on the curb in a minute or so. Jaskier’s ride is almost there too, so it works out well at least.</p><p>Before they step out though, Jaskier pulls him out of the way of the doors and off to the side where he sheepishly asks, “Not to be weird but can we take a selfie?” It’s… surprising, to say the least, and he feels <i>immediately</i> bad for hesitating based on how Jaskier flinches. “How about like this…” Jaskier moves Eskel so that he's standing in the light a certain way, and then he stands in front of him with his back to Eskel's chest. </p><p>When he brings the front camera up, the position of Jaskier’s head is covering just enough of Eskel’s scars to make him breathe more easily. “Yeah, that's fine.” They take a few until Jaskier is satisfied, and then he takes a few more while Eskel gets kissed on the cheek, on his jaw, then his lips with each one being more ridiculous than the last. And of course one more kiss for good luck, because why not? </p><p>Ciri slams on her brakes the moment she spots Eskel, which is as soon as they walk out of the doors together. Some poor unfortunate soul behind her has to swerve, and he can hear Jaskier beside him start to crack up the moment she opens the door to get out and open the trunk. Ciri looks at them bewildered, and Eskel asks, “Am I missing something?”</p><p>“Why are you standing next to my history professor whose class I should be in right now but it was canceled?” </p><p>The immensity of the coincidence would be staggering if not for Jaskier next to him grasping Eskel’s forearm as he says, “Fucking <i>figures</i> my favorite student this semester would be here to pick you up—and you did <i>not</i> hear me say that, Riannon.” A horn honks just a little bit away, and someone Jaskier recognizes is there similarly, pulled just around Ciri. This time, Jaskier squeezes his wrist quick before he starts walking away, but not before he says, “I’ll text you.”</p><p>This time though, Eskel can breathe, and he allows himself to be herded into Ciri’s indestructible rust bucket. And he manages to dodge most of her questions about what that had been about, <i>definitely</i> not about to talk about this with his niece. He does text Lambert though to let him know he’s been picked up and to ask him if he’s free tomorrow, but other than that, Eskel feels like he’s floating on air.</p><p>Getting home, there is way too much to do. There’s a pile of mail to catch up on and his animals to care for, and he unpacks last. When he finally lays down, he’s discovered the trace of perfume left on the shirt that Jaskier had worn, only feeling a <i>little</i> pathetic for keeping the fabric against his nose. Checking his phone, Jaskier has sent him one of their pictures, and then ten minutes later:</p><p>&gt;<i>if there were two guys on the moon and one of them killed the other with a rock would that be fucked up or what?</i></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>you can find me on tumblr @ <a href="https://jennyloggins.tumblr.com/">jennyloggins</a> and on twitter at <a href="https://twitter.com/slimejen">slimejen</a>. feel free to come talk or say hi or yell at me or whatever!!!!!!!!!!!!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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